I tried to adopt a piglet today. Apparently they frown upon that in this place, we’ll probably most places. She was a cute little piglet, spotted and ever so sweet.
She followed me and looked up at me with these loving eyes that demand she be picked up to rest her dainty feet. While I held her, yes I held her, she squealed her request to come home with me. Her current owner told me that the piglet had “taken a shine” to me. So of course I simply had to bring her home.
So being a logical type of sole, I left my wee (get it?) little friend at her current residence and went about gathering information to adopt her. Only to discover I’m not allowed. I was told it simply wouldn’t be in the pig’s best interest. Which of course is silly. I’d love her and teach her all new things.
It can’t be a mixed species thing because I have a puppy and there is no problem with that. Unless they discriminate against pigs, I pointed out. And the lady told me ever so gently that it wasn’t that. She was sure I was pig friendly. She had no doubt that I would love the piglet and provide for her. It was, she said with a slight smile, a case of zoning.
Cities aren’t zoned for livestock or farm animals. Even if it’s a pot-bellied pig. Pigs are deemed livestock. And no, she told me, I can’t call her a special dog or use her as a helper animal.
Dejected, I drove home and felt sorry for my precious piglet and myself. Beloved told me he had a fix and suggested we get in the car. He drove back to the piglet’s house and spoke briefly with the owner. She told us she couldn’t promise anything, she had to speak with her husband, but it may be possible to own the piglet and simply have the piglet board there.
On the drive home, Beloved told me it was the best comprise we’d get. So maybe we shall have the piglet after all. Whee!