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by WaylandCybersmith

Not totally original, but my own slant on the story.


Robert was taking his family for a tour of a farm In Dustham.  All was well until little Billy ran up to him and yelled. “Daddy, Daddy!  That pig has got a wooden leg!”  Robert told him not to be silly, but Billy yelled again “Daddy, Daddy!  That pig really HAS a wooden leg!”  So the whole family went over to the pen and, sure enough, there was a pig with a wooden leg.

Robert called to the farmer and asked him “Prithee, Goodsir, methinks ‘tis odd that yon pig has a leg of wood.  Pray, what manner of thing is this?” (Robert had mastered the local dialect).

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit?” (The farmer was actually from Clorxey Green).  “When me and the missus was just starting up here, all we could afford was that pig.  Got him when he was just a piglet.”

“Verrily, Goodsir,” (Robert was a bit slow on the uptake). “But why the leg as wooden as any oak?”

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit?  In the first week we got him he starts nuzzling the ground by that tree over there.  We starts digging and there’s this huge pile of Roman coins.  We got £250,000 for that.”

“Yes, but why the wooden leg?” (By George he’s got it!).

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit?  Abaht 6 months ago a burglar broke in tied up me and the missus, took all our money and jewellery and ran off.  That pig jumped out of his pen, chased after the burglar, knocked him out, got into the house, chewed off the ropes on me and the missus, went back and sat on the burglar until the police came.”


“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit?  Only last month I was working the lower field, when one of the tractor wheels sinks into the grahnd.  The whole thing tips over and pins me dahn.  I couldn’t move.  I thought I was a gonner, and no mistake.  That pig jumps out of his pen and starts digging away at the earth around me and drags me out.  I owe my life to that pig.”

“Yes, yes, yes.  BUT WHY THE WOODEN LEG!!!”

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit?  Last Tuesday our niece went for a paddle in the pond.  She slips and hits her head on a rock.  That pig jumps out of his pen and drags her out.  Then it does CPR on her.  It saved her life.”

“Look, if you don’t tell us why that pig has a wooden leg, I’m going to beat you senseless.”

“Well, mate, it’s obvious, innit?  You have a pig that good; you don’t eat him all at once!! Streaky bacon anybody?  Fresh!”

© WaylandCybersmith 2011


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