I saw this pig at the fair yesterday.
I got down on my knees and was all, Fist bump of solidarity, sisterfriend. I FEEL for you. Then I offered to take her out for drinks.
Then she snorted at me, as if to say, Please, lady. I have TWELVE babies scrambling and squealing and climbing and demanding that I feed them right now.
The farmer got in the pen to help this little runt stay latched on, because I guess even pigs need lactation consultants.
Afterward, he told me that if she were in a barn, he'd never be able to get in the stall and get between her and her babies. He said she'd attack him. I smiled and nodded and said, Of course. Mamas have to protect their babies.
Me and pigs. We just get each other. Except for the part where I like to eat them... and they probably don't like to be eaten. Sorry, pigs.