Out in the country, down on the farm
Huddled together to keep themselves warm
Nine baby piggies had just been born
To “Sweetie”, the sow, on a clear frosty morn.
Farmer Dan found them; he knew they were due
Soon he told all his children, especially Sue
He just knew she’d go crazy, that’s the girl that she was
For newborn farm babies were something she loved.
Dan and his daughter rushed out to the pen
To peek at the piggies wiggling within
Nine little oinkers with thirty-six feet
Squealing and squirming for something to eat.
A barnful of bacon, a passel of pigs
Eight were normal in size, one was not very big.
Now, not very big is not really true
For one was so small he could fit in your shoe.
This peanut-size pig gave a half-pint size grunt
Sue loved him at once, this cute little runt.
“Oooh, Dad, he’s so tiny!” a squeal came from Sue.
“Could I make him my pet? That’s what I’d like to do.”
“Dad, you always hear tales of a boy and his dog,
Why not a girl with a cute baby hog?
And you read me that book of a cat with a hat
So, a girl with a pig, now what’s wrong with that?”
Farmer Dan laughed and slapped both his knees.
“That pig’s a real corker, that’s easy to see.
He’s so small he’ll need all the help he can get.
Sue, you just got yourself a pig for a pet!”
“Dad, I think you just named him,” Sue sang joyfully.
“I’ll call him ‘Corker’; that’s who he should be.
He’s lightweight and lively and bounces around
Like a fishing cork does when a fish pulls it down.”
So Corker, the porker, and sweet little Sue
Soon became playmates like kids and pets do.
Around the pig’s neck, she tied a red bow
Wherever Sue went, that’s where Corker would go.
Now, pigs do love puddles, it’s often been said
They’ll plop right down in one and make it their bed.
It’s not that they don’t want to keep themselves neat
But a cool bath of mud brings relief from the heat.
So, one warm spring day while Sue was at school
Corker was seeking a place to get cool.
He grunted and snorted and sniffed all around
He searched for some water, but none could be found.
Then he spotted a sparrow whose feathers were soaked
And a wringing-wet wren that flew from an oak.
He knew where they’d been and where he’d like to be,
In that cool concrete birdbath under the tree.
With no water on earth, it just didn’t seem fair
That the puddle he’d found was perched in the air.
But that’s where it was and he’d get there or die,
And he knew when he’d get there, it would be when pigs fly!
He had heard people say that; surely it could be done.
But before pigs could fly, just how fast must they run?
Very fast, super fast, at the speed of light?
Corker the porker prepared to take flight.
He ran like the wind as he kicked up the dust,
Pork chops and ham hocks provided the thrust.
With a gigantic jump, he sailed through the sky.
He sizzled like bacon; can pigs really fly?
He soared through the air with the greatest design,
This daring young pig with a birdbath in mind.
He sailed like a songbird that darts through the trees,
Then he landed in water right up to his knees.
In joy and pure wonder he waded around
In his own airborne bathtub two feet above ground.
He splashed just a bit like he’d seen the birds do
Then he plopped in the puddle for an afternoon snooze.
Soon the big school bus brought Sue home again,
She hurried to play with her curly-tailed friend.
She searched in the barn but her pal wasn’t there,
Then she found him asleep in the pool in the air.
Sue had heard stories and riddles and such,
Of lots of strange places where pigs might end up,
Like pigs in a blanket or a pig in a poke,
But a pig in the birdbath under the oak?!
Then Corker awoke and hopped down from on high
A proud little pig that thought he could fly.
To show his best friend how the whole thing began,
He backed up and took off and sailed there again.
Sue stared in amazement, then laughed at the runt,
And she told Farmer Dan of the piggie’s great stunt
After that day, when Sue looked for her swine,
He’d be found in the birdbath most of the time.
Now, time is a friend that each farmer needs
For great crops to grow from spring-planted seeds.
But time was a problem to Corker the pig,
For, in time, the wee piggy began to grow big.
Then big became bigger and then bigger yet,
Till the time came when Sue had a hog for a pet.
Corker the porker no longer could fly
To his heavenly birdbath where he loved to lie.
He yearned for the urn where he once churned about,
He drooled for the pool where he once cooled his snout.
Then he thought of a way he could get there again,
There was no need to fly; he could simply step in.
Ever so gently, at such a slow pace,
Corker climbed into his favorite place.
He stood on his tiptoes like toe dancers do,
A barnyard ballet from a hog that was huge.
A pig in the birdbath was now not the case,
But a plump porker perched on a small concrete base.
He looked like a statue placed there to add charm,
A shrine to a swine, a salute to the farm.
Then came a rumble, a shattering sound,
As concrete and Corker crashed to the ground.
No longer a haven that hung in the air,
The birdbath lay broken beyond all repair.
Corker sat sadly with tears in his eyes,
As dust from the downfall started to rise.
Now where would he go to find a retreat,
A place to escape from the simmering heat?
The disaster was witnessed by good Farmer Dan,
Before the dust settled, he had thought of a plan.
For Dan loved his daughter and Sue loved that hog,
And the hog loved the birdbath that now had been lost.
So Dan got his shovel and began to dig in.
He scooped out a space where the birdbath had been.
He lined it with concrete and made it a pool,
Just the right size for a hog to keep cool.
Dan stood back and smiled, Sue danced with glee,
Corker stepped in the pond and plopped down happily.
Just then a songbird perched on the hog’s snout,
Then it hopped in the water and splashed all about.
The hog was amused by this sudden surprise.
He smiled, then he laughed until tears filled his eyes.
A bird in the pigbath, that made Corker laugh.
He had never seen anything as silly as that!