We were out in the lovely weather doing chores Sunday when I noticed the sound of mules thundering across the pasture.  This was accompanied by the terrified screeching of the potbellied pig.  The mules, especially Barney, regard her as vermin. I can’t say I’m of a different mind with them on this point.  She’d bulldozed her way underneath the fence into their territory and they were gleefully chasing her with the object of fully incorporating her into the soil. Their body language was saying “We got the motherfucker now!”

My wife intervened before progress could be made on the pig front. I fought to overcome a strange inertia but ultimately failed to move a muscle.

Maybe next time. Eh, Barney?