A morning conversation with the piggies

Me: (feeding pieces of apple through the slats in the stall as two or three of the most boisterous ones vie for attention): "Don’t be such piggies!"

Them: “But Foster Mama, we are piggies!”

Me: (as Toddy stays standing at the slat so no others can reach my hand): “Quit being a hog! You have to share the space!”

Toddy: “Silly Foster Mama, I’m not a hog, I’m a pig!”

Me: (As Soda stubbornly refuses to move out of the doorway, despite my repeated requests of “Excuse me Soda I need to get by”) “Soda you are so pig-headed!"

Soda: “And your point is??? I’d look pretty silly with any other kind of head.”

And then there is ever polite, ever stable Scotch. He took one look at the rain and decided not to join the others for the greens outside. As I slipped back through his stall to the interior of the barn, he looked up at me with those beautiful, soulful eyes.
“Got a a minute?” he asked.
“Sure Scotch, do you need some affection?” said I.
“Yes please. A little belly rub and a song, please.” So I rub his belly and sing him his sunshine song, and he lifts his snout to my face:
“Thanks mom. I love you.”
“Love you too, Scotch.”