Sad Tales. Happy Tails.
Of course the pig would have to choose a windy, icy night on which to birth out. It just had to be 3am after I’d been ill for a few days. Her milk just had to come in on the night Stephen had to work late and she just had to be in the wrong field and we just had to herd her into the farrowing barn through the ice and wind instead of being cosy and warm by the…