Beware! When shopping for a potbellied pig, do not buy one at a swap meet or out of the back of a van at the corner truck stop. You are just asking for trouble. I don’t recommend getting a pig from a pet store either, unless they can supply appropriate food and support information as well as the pig’s litter registration paper indicating the breeder.
Don’t get caught up in the moment.
Here’s the picture. You’re holding a cute and cuddly, three week old bottle baby who is being touted as everything you could hope for. You are not given the opportunity to see the parents or littermates. You are told the circumstances surrounding the young, preweaning age piglet you are snuggling. "The mother got sick and couldn’t nurse her babies."..WHY? "The piglet wouldn’t nurse, so was taken away from the litter and bottle-fed."...WHY? Be wary of these kinds of stories. I can guarantee you that heartache is just around the corner.
But hey... sometimes fairy tales are more believeable than facts. What makes me mad is that someone actually raises these critters and fobs them off on the unsuspecting public. Shame on you!
But enough of that, listening to my Groove Coverage music I came across this song called The Last Unicorn, after some digging I came across this:
Here are the lyrics then;
The Last Unicorn - Written by Jimmy Webb and sung by America
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn
I'm alive, I'm alive
When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning
And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn
Look and see her how she sparkles, it's the last unicorn
I'm alive, I'm alive
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn
They will stare unbelieving at the last unicorn
When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing
And you look to the north and a pale moon is rising
And it seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn
In the distance hear the laughter of the last unicorn
I'm alive, I'm alive
When the last moon is cast over the last star of morning
And the future has passed without even a last desperate warning
Then look into the sky where through the clouds a path is torn
Look and see her how she sparkles, it's the last unicorn
I'm alive, I'm alive
Well... enough fantasy, all you folk out there... watch out for piggery pokery, otherwise you may wish you had rather...
"Never played leapfrog with a unicorn." Benny Hill (italics me)
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