After I had written about Milly, the piglet at the Millstone Farm Stall, Richard was very curious to meet her too. And that just happened to coincide with an overwhelming craving for a thick, foamy chococcino on my part, which was a serendipitous synchronicity indeed.
As soon as we arrived, we saw that Milly was the centre of attention. She was graciously receiving one visitor after another, with everyone from little toddlers to grown-ups walking over to wherever she was busy snuffling around, to give her a few pats or a scratch. She was taking it all in her stride, rolling over onto her side when a scratcher was particularly good with his or her hands, and grunting contentedly to signal her pleasure. When she came over to our table, I bent down to scratch her back, and she promptly flopped over onto her side into a bush, whose bruised leaves released a delightful scent.
Ever so often, though, Milly would surprise all of us with a burst of speed: She’d be snuffling peacably somewhere, when she’d suddenly give a loud snort and then race off at high speed, her tail up in the air and her stubby little legs working like mad, as she sped around the yard, barrelling past the small crates and between the table legs. She’d deliberately lean herself into the corners, like a motorbike rider, sending a spray of mulch up into the air. It was absolutely hysterical! I just wish I’d been quick enough with the camera to capture it.
One of the customers was accompanied by her gorgeous golden retriever. She (the retriever, I mean) had been instructed quite firmly to sit down near the entrance, and wasn’t allowed to get up and roam around. I got a shot of her sitting in a very lady-like pose, that reminded me immediately of Sheba, the golden retriever of Richard’s sister Tanya.
Milly had spotted the retriever, and trotted confidently towards her. She was struggling to get onto the ramp, and promptly seized the opportunity to get a good, satisfying scratch against her tummy.
The retriever was staring at her with astonishment as Milly came closer and closer.
Milly flopped down on the ramp, and appeared to be introducing herself. “Hullo, I’m Milly. What’s your name, then?”
The dog was completely mesmerized, and watching with increasing dismay as Milly came closer to snuffle at her paws in a friendly kind of way. First the right one…
… then the left one…
Don’t you just love that look on the dog’s face? Just adorable! I can almost see the thoughts going through her head: “Uh-oh, that pig’s getting waaaay too close. I know I’m not allowed to move, but this is scary. Oh crap, she’s sniffing my paws! Oh no! Mommy!!!”
Unfortunately, I had already put my camera aside, when the dog suddenly leapt up, bounding right past Milly, and trotted over to me. She’d seen me looking at her and obviously felt that I would be able to protect her somehow. She was such a beautiful, affectionate dog, so I gave her a hug and patted her in a comforting kind of way until she settled down again.
What a wonderful afternoon’s entertainment!