Fernando was a man with a terrible temper. He spent his days yelling at his wife, his
\nchildren, his dog, even his pig. Especially the pig, for some reason. Maybe because the
\npig took the yelling so calmly. His wife screamed back, the kids cried, the dog ran to
\nhide. But the pig just stood in its dirty pen grunting every few minutes while Fernando
\nranted. Nothing he said rattled that pig, and eventually Fernando decided that he had
\nfound the only sympathetic creature in the world.<\/p>\n
Of course this was an illusion. The pig’s main interest in life was his next meal and
\nwhat that meal might be. As long as Fernando kept the food coming every day, he could
\nsay whatever he wanted however he wanted and the pig would happily listen to him.<\/p>\n
Fernando eventually took the step that comes after yelling and began to hit. He beat
\nhis wife, but she attacked him with a knife and swore that if he ever touched her again
\nhe would be minus some vital equipment. Fernando believed her, because she was the one
\nperson he knew with a temper worse than his own. He beat his son, who immediately ran
\nto his mother and Fernando received his second warning. He decided that to beat his
\ndaughter would mean risking more than he wanted to pay, so he left her alone and turned
\nto the dog, who bit him and then ran away for good. That left the pig.<\/p>\n
The first time Fernando came roaring out of the house with a broom in his hands and
\nwhacked the animal across the back, the pig was so startled he screamed. Fernando hit
\nhim again, harder. He liked the sound of the mushy thud made by each blow of the broom
\nhandle. Even the pig’s repeated and louder screams could not drown it out. Fernando
\nfelt strong, powerful. When he was through beating the pig, he was more relaxed than he
\nhad been in years. This must have been what he needed: something to serve as a punching
\nbag so he could get rid of all the rage that came from who knows where. He went back
\ninside to eat his dinner without once yelling at anyone. The new peace around the table
\nwas a welcome surprise. The family enjoyed their pleasant meal and went to sleep happy.<\/p>\n
The pig was not happy that night. His back hurt, and so did his feelings; he had done
\nnothing to deserve such a beating. But worse than either of these aches was the pain in
\nhis stomach, because Fernando had not given him the usual evening bucket of scraps. The
\npig was hungry. By morning, that hunger had overpowered everything else and the pig had
\nno thoughts for anything but the slop that Fernando dumped into the pen at last.<\/p>\n
However, as soon as the pig finished eating he went to wallow a bit in his favorite
\nmuddy corner and the tenderness in his back reminded him painfully of the day before.
\nSo when Fernando showed up with a shovel to give the pen its twice a month cleaning,
\nthe pig kept a wary eye on him the whole time and tried to stay as far away from him as
\npossible.<\/p>\n
Fernando whistled while he scooped the sludge from the bottom of the pen and tossed it
\nonto the large smelly pile behind the back wall. Someday he would spread that around to
\nprepare a patch of garden. But not today: he felt too good to work hard today. In order
\nto celebrate this good feeling, he decided to visit his friends at the pulque shop. So
\nhe gave the pig an affectionate slap on the rump with the flat of the shovel, laughed
\nat the loud grunt of surprise, and hurried away.<\/p>\n
Much later, when Fernando slouched home again, he stopped by the pig’s pen and reached
\na hand towards the pig’s ear, muttering about it being the only ear that listened to
\nhim. Who knows what he had intended to do…perhaps scratch the ear, perhaps twist it.
\nBut the pig backed quickly out of reach, which infuriated Fernando. How dare that pig
\nnot allow him to touch it! He could do whatever he wanted to that pig whenever he cared
\nto do it and he would prove it!<\/p>\n
There was a small pile of broken bricks nearby. Fernando grabbed two of the biggest
\nchunks he could find. He threw the first piece, aiming for an ear but hitting the side
\nof the pig’s head, making a cut just below one eye. The pig began to squeal, turning in
\ntiny circles and bumping against the gate, which was not all that sturdy. Fernando let
\nfly with the second brick but he missed the pig completely that time. Fernando’s wife
\ncame out of the house just as he bent over to get more chunks. She pushed him off
\nbalance and he fell into the mound, scraping his face and hands. Fernando started
\nyelling at her even before he managed to get himself up off the ground. From inside the
\nhouse came the sound of crying. The two children had heard the noise and realized that
\ntheir too-short happy day was over.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile the pig had accidentally bumped into that not-too-sturdy gate hard enough to
\npop it open.At first he was too surprised to realize what that meant.He stood listening
\nto the commotion nearby, looking blankly at the empty space where the gate usually was.
\nDid he dare put his head through that space? He tried it. No one noticed; they were
\nstill too busy fighting. The pig took one step, then another and another. One last step
\nand he was free of the stinky pen, free to explore,free to do whatever he wanted to do!<\/p>\n
But what did he want to do? He was hungry again. Maybe he could find something tasty
\nto munch on. He trundled around the yard, crunching here, nibbling there. When he got
\nto the small empty doghouse, he shoved his head and shoulders inside to get closer to a
\ntempting odor.The house collapsed around him and he shook himself clear of the wreckage
\njust in time to receive a ferocious kick in his backside. Fernando and his wife had
\ndiscovered the loose pig. Their fight was over but now the chase was on!<\/p>\n
It was not a high speed chase. The pig had never been outside of his pen before and
\nhe was already quite tired. But he trotted quickly here when Fernando went there; and
\nthere when Fernando’s wife went here. He tried to slip daintily around the turkey pen:
\ncrashing into it and setting the ten young turkeys loose was certainly not planned but
\ndid add to the excitement.<\/p>\n
The children were ordered out to help, but they were frightened at the difference
\nbetween the imprisoned pig they were familiar with and this huge floppy-eared freight
\ntrain huffing and puffing towards them. They could not keep to their posts; the pig
\nbroke through every attempted blockade. So Fernando’s son was sent to his grandfather’s
\nhouse for reinforcements. That seemed to be the signal for a break in the action, since
\nno one moved while he was gone. The pig had discovered the sludge pile behind his pen
\nand was rooting around happily at the edges of it but he kept an eye on Fernando, who
\nwas leaning against his truck trying to decide what to do next. There had to be a way
\nto get the pig back into his pen, but how? Maybe he had better wait until his father
\narrived. Papa was always the one who solved problems; he would fix everything. Yes,
\nFernando would wait and let his father take over. That was the best thing to do.<\/p>\n
After what felt like a very long time, the gate opened and Papa came into the yard.
\nFernando groaned when he saw half a dozen old men with his father. He had forgotten
\nthat this was their day to gather for dominoes, gossip and pulque. Those old men were
\na rowdy bunch; he had never felt comfortable around them but he could hardly tell them
\nto leave now. Just his luck to have so many tongue-wagging witnesses to his little pig
\nproblem. But wait until later, pig…when we are alone you will be sorry you ever got
\nout of your pen.<\/p>\n
Fernando! The stern call broke into his thoughts. Papa was directing traffic.You here,
\nEsteban. You there, Jose. He sent each of his friends to various points of the compass.
\nThe plan was to gently funnel the pig back to its pen. He knew none of his friends
\nwould let the pig break through the lines. He was not so sure about his son, however.
\nPapa was annoyed with Fernando for being such an imbecile that he could not control his
\nown pig. He did not appreciate having his social afternoon so rudely interrupted, but
\nhis friends were having a wonderful time teasing Fernando mercilessly. Papa decided
\nthat the best place for Fernando was behind the pig. Fernando! Get over there and drive
\nthat pig towards Juan…just get him started…and don’t make a mess of it!<\/p>\n
Old men’s mocking hoots accompanied Fernando as he stomped towards the pig. Why did
\nthey have to laugh at everything? You would think they were enjoying the whole stupid
\nsituation. He tore a small branch from the remains of a lime tree and swished it like a
\nsword a few times. He’d show them what was what. First the pig, then those silly old
\nmen.<\/p>\n
All this time the pig had stayed close to the sludge pile. More than close, actually.
\nHe had bulldozed his way through it a time or two, just to see if he could. He had dug
\nat it with his feet, rooted around in it with his nose, and rolled in it with his
\nentire self. So now not only was the pig a mess, the sludge pile was spread out: a
\nthick steaming blob of a kingdom ruled by the pig, who stood relaxed in the very center
\nwatching Fernando marching in his direction. He was not concerned about Papa and the
\nother men. He knew they were the masters of any situation, they had that aura. And if
\none of the old men had been assigned the task of starting the pig on his way, the whole
\nepisode might have ended differently.<\/p>\n
But it was Fernando getting closer.Fernando of the broom stick.Fernando of the shovel.
\nFernando of the bricks and the kick. The pig twitched his curly tail but did not budge
\nwhen Fernando of the switch shouted at him to move. Get closer! You are too far away!
\nMore laughter from the old men. Fernando took a squishy step across the boundary line
\nof the pig’s kingdom. He waved the switch around and yelled again. The pig ignored him.
\nPapa’s voice rose above the others. If you don’t get closer and get that pig moving…!
\nNo need for him to complete the threat. Fernando knew that even at his age, Papa could
\nstill thrash him easily.<\/p>\n
So he took a deep breath, blinked clear his suddenly watery eyes, and took two giant
\nstrides forward into the muck. His feet sank to the ankles, and he could hardly breathe
\nfor the stench, but he was close enough now to whip the pig with his switch. The pig
\nstill ignored him. The old men were delighted. Closer, Fernando! You will have to kiss
\nthat pig before it will move! Fernando was nearly close enough to touch the pig. With
\none final step, he leaned forward, stretching his arms before him, planning to give the
\npig a good hard shove. He felt the pig’s body under his hands. He put all of his power
\ninto that shove; the pig swayed like a tree in the wind. Fernando cursed him, braced
\nhimself as best he could in the slippery ooze, rocked back on his heels, and let
\nhis body fall towards the pig. At the precise moment when he touched the pig this time,
\nthe pig took two casual steps forward and Fernando, being overbalanced and with all
\nhis momentum pushing him on, landed face first in the slime.<\/p>\n
All the old men roared with laughter, even Fernando’s father. But then the pig added
\nthe crowning touch: he raised his curly tail and let fly a great stinking stream which
\ncompletely covered Fernando’s back. Ay, Fernando…he’s been saving up for you! The men
\ncould hardly breathe for laughing, and they all saluted the pig when he casually walked
\npast them and into his pen, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Pepe
\nclosed the gate to the pen, complementing the pig on his aim. He was impressed with
\nthis pig. Fernando had been rude to him more than once, and Pepe felt he deserved all
\nthat the pig had given him if not more. Yes, this was a good pig, a very good pig.<\/p>\n
Fernando jumped up almost incoherent with fury. He spluttered and cursed, but no one
\npaid attention to him except Otilio, who told him he sounded like Donald Duck, which of
\ncourse triggered another round of helpless laughter and some good imitations. It was
\nthe most exciting afternoon these men had had in months. But when they saw that the
\nslime-covered Fernando had picked up his machete and was heading towards the pig pen,
\nthey quickly became serious. Donald, what do you think you are going to do? I am going
\nto kill that damned pig!<\/p>\n
Pepe stopped him cold. You will have to kill me first, Donald.The other men echoed the
\nthreat. Fernando was spitting mad, but even so he knew better than to tempt fate with
\nthese men. All he could do was scream with rage. Then Pepe made the offer that changed
\nthe pig’s life forever. I will buy this good pig from you. I will take him home with me
\nright now and you will never be able to beat this pig again. Yes, I have seen the marks
\non his back, Donald. You should be ashamed of yourself. You do not deserve to own such
\na fine pig. Now go take a bath. You stink worse than any pig ever did.<\/p>\n
The old men cheered. Someone went to fetch Pepe’s truck and parked it backed against a
\nslope. Pepe went to scratch behind the pig’s ears, telling him about his new home and
\nthe lady pig waiting for him there. Then Pepe opened the gate, inviting the pig out.
\nThey walked together to the truck, and the pig climbed in easily, full of trust in this
\nlittle old man who talked so gently and knew how to scratch itchy places. He would have
\nfollowed him anywhere. What a good pig!<\/p>\n
And Fernando? He turned the hose on himself. His wife took the opportunity to scrub
\nhim down with some very harsh soap and a stiff brush until his skin was nearly raw. He
\nnever did completely lose the perfume of that afternoon, though. And forever after he
\nwas known around town as Donald.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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