The Comforts of Home

A wild pig shambled up to a sty and called inside: “Brothers and
sisters, we pigs have allowed ourselves to be penned up unfairly.
Life is too beautiful to end up as a slice of ham next to a baked
potato. Rise up and live. I know what freedom is, the freedom of
the hills. The time for rebellion is now–break out of this prison
and come join me.”

An old sow looked up from her bed of mud. “What’s your freedom
worth? We’re fed daily; you scavenge for food. This fence guards
us against wolves; you run half a step ahead of fear both day and
night. The farmer treats us well. Why should we swap our luxury
for you misfortunes?”

“You speak the words of defeat,” sneered the boar. “I look in this
pen and I don’t see pigs, I see sausages and lunchmeat, pork chops
and bacon. The farmer does nothing for you–he feeds you to feed
his stomach. You may feel cozy today, but tomorrow out comes the
knife and there’s the end of your comfort. Yet, you can still
escape–with me!”

“The knife kills quickly. Wolves aren’t as considerate. Either way
I end up a meal, so I think I will stay here.” And saying that, the
old sow rolled over in the mud.

And went back to sleep.

G A Stewart

Published in: on December 9, 2009 at 8:48 PM  Leave a Comment  

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