My grandfather had a pig that grew so big we couldn’t keep it, but had to set it loose, to forage for itself. Disaster! It gobbled a field of turnips in one night, an acre of corn in one afternoon. Soon it was pushing down whole trees for food, knocking down barns to get at the grain inside. There was nothing for it – the pig had to go.
The bacon from that pig gave the whole town breakfast for a month, and the skin? How do you think we put a roof on that fine town hall?
Sarah writes poems 