You have all heard of the Three Little Pigs: the house of straw, the house of sticks, and the house of bricks, and how the Wolf, after climbing down the chimney of the Third Little Pig, found himself in some very hot water. 

 

But have you ever heard of the Fourth Little Pig?

 

Well, it seems that just before the Wolf climbed to the roof of the house of bricks, he got on his cell phone and, still short of breath from all that huffing and puffing, called a few of his buddies and asked them to come and help him and share in a good old pork dinner. When they arrived, there was no sign of their friend outside the house of bricks, but they did hear the screams of their fellow pack member coming from inside, this followed by  laughter and loud self-congratulations of the Three Little Pigs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wolf buddies were bent on destruction of these porcine murderers.  Together they huffed and they puffed.   The house of bricks refused to yield, whereupon one of the wolves jumped in his truck, backed it up about a hundred feet, mashed the gas, and drove it through the front door of the brick house.  Of course, amidst the dust and debris, the dazzled Three Little Pigs screamed hysterically and tried to run, but the remaining wolves caught them with little difficulty.  Although the pigs squealed and squealed for their lives to be spared, the wolf buddies unmercifully ripped them to pieces and had a fine meal.  They then loaded the truck with anything of value they could find in the ruins of the house of bricks, turned the radio up to deafening volume, and drove gleefully away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, the other part you have not heard: the Fourth Little Pig.  He had not, of course, been present at the massacre, nor was he at his own house.  In fact, he had no house at all, but he had no fear.  He wasn’t worried about wolves.  Since he had no walls to defend, whether of straw, sticks or bricks, all that huffing and puffing, he knew, was a matter others might fret about, but not him. While the other pigs were running from house to house and screaming and being butchered by the wolves, he was out lying in the grass and watching the clouds float by.  And since he didn't spend too much time sitting indoors, he was a little on the skinny side and not particularly appealing as a meal for wolves.  He watched many sunsets and flights of birds, wallowed in numerous delightful, oozing mudholes, smelled the flowers of many springs, and danced and danced and danced. 

 

--- Jeffrey A. Mallory 1/17/2001