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My Whistle-Pig

(My font, spacing, format, and thoughts are sporadic because I typed the previous blog on my phone and this blog on someone else's computer. I'm a perfectionist, which isn't always obvious in these haphazard blogs, but I despise when things lack consistency. Anyway, forgive me for what I write this week--I will be roaming around Northeast Arkansas.)

Remember the badger? The one that roams around my front yard every day and likes to hide under the car. Yeah, it's not a badger after all, according to sources who know more about wild animals than I do. Can't give gambling advice. Can't identify wild animals. Before you know it, someone will say I can't write. Psh.

Apparently it's a groundhog. What does this mean? Is this important? I never understood that entire thing about the groundhog and winter and weather. Is there something I should specifically watch my groundhog for? Does he hide under the car because he thinks it's his shadow? I just don't know--I'm not nearly as interested in a groundhog as I am a badger. Although, reading the almighty Wikipedia, groundhogs are woodchucks. Wait, what?! Groundhogs chuck wood? I'm so confused. Since I can't call it a badger and I don't like groundhog and woodchuck doesn't seem to fit, I'll go with the third option: whistle-pig.

Yup, a whistle-pig. Woo, whistle-pig sooie.

Oh, which reminds me: the other day one of my cousins suggested that I kill the badger-groundhog-woodchuck-whistle-pig. I considered my plethora of weapons: I could bludgeon it with the World's Largest Bolt Cutters, but this would require that I get within arm's length of the rodent. I decided to pass. Next, I considered shooting it; however, I don't think shooting a gun in a residential area in downtown Little Rock would be advisable. Not to mention that I'd miss anyway. This was never really an option because I try to avoiding bringing harm to most living organisms.

The whistle-pig in my front yard makes me think of Oy from The Dark Tower Series. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I suggest you read the series when you get the chance. Oy is a billy-bumbler, which the author describes as "a combination of a badger, raccoon, and dog." My very own billy-bumbler, whistle-pig. This is getting out of hand.

Now when I think of the whistle-pig, this is how I imagine myself:


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