I have the best neighbors. Generally, we’re a small quiet group, but the ‘hood comes to life on holiday weekends.
One family in particular will come up occasionally, and they know they’re welcome to mosey over to visit Gyps and the Pips, or D.O.G. the pig.
They’re from suburbia, where I would imagine most folks don’t have a ponkey in the pasture, or a pig in the living room. A live one at least.
Tim is the dad, and has helped me out many times over the years with his tractor. It sure is a pretty tractor. He’s plowed my driveway…dug up earth for my garden…moved the manure pile. Nothing like a part-time neighbor with a tractor to seal a friendship. A very pretty tractor. Did I mention that?
Sometimes Suzy (mom), and the kids; Jessica and Nate, come along to walk the Pips to the river. If they’re brave enough, they’ll pet the pig. Contingent on his whereabouts. That dang pig can be a grouch behind the couch.
Suzy always packs plenty of vittles and this Thanksgiving weekend was no exception. They headed back home today and afterward, I found a bag of food tied to the barn door. Veggies galore! For D.O.G….the local compost-master!
D.O.G. had already told Suzy, “No onions.”
I told Suzy, “He’s watching his waistline…easy on the desserts.” (BIG SNORT from grouch behind the couch)