I just love pigs. Don't eat them, but I know if others didn't they wouldn't be there in the first place. Their ability to churn over a seemingly rock hard field of stubble, their inquisitive accelerated amble and their apparent enjoyment at Breckland external employment; all very charming. The periodical piglet passel are a delight, banded together like a oi-n-k of teenagers, with always the toughest one ready to have a face off with my dog, until Bertie runs the other way of course.
Pigs made the headlines on the main route down south today when their one way trip was interrupted, along with the travel plans of many on the M11, for around ten hours. A couple of pigs were dispatched on scene, because of injury, whilst the other 70 odd were humanely rounded up by the RSPCA before being, er, later dispatched further down in the Essex countryside.
On the lighter side, Miss Piggy stole the One Show before Christmas.
