Dear Little Ginger Colored Piglets,
You didn't come when I thought you would. All my laid out plans were for naught as we have now lost our 'window' of opportunity for a long hike. Oh well. At least you are cute. It was exciting being a midwife too. I could tell Sweet Pea appreciated me being there and calmed down when I rubbed her tummy. I even had to pull one of you little buggers out. It isn't easy giving birth, so you better appreciate your mamas. It's amazing how you pop out all slimy and clumsy and immediately start trying to find a nipple, stumbling and falling all over the place. You really looked drunk, but of course dragging an umbilical cord around didn't help. I'm amazed at how long your lifeline was. Some of them were 18 inches long. The book said not to cut it and it did slowly dry up and fall off, but for an hour or so it followed you in your wobbly travels. I wasn't expecting that.
Little Piggies, I promise to take good care of all fifteen of you. Some of you already have new homes to go to in a couple months and some of you will live your whole life here, running around these hills and playing in our ponds. Be thankful that your weren't born in some big industrial hog farm where you would live on metal and never see the light of day surrounded by 1000's of you all caged up without any room to even move around and act like pigs. Here, I will always treat you well and you will freely roam these Southern Humboldt hills without cages and at the end of your allotted time I will thank you for the meat you will provide.