The New Adventures Of Wilbur the Pig Chapter 15 "The Pig Whisperer"

Now we had a green pig, but that was not all that had turned green. Besides Jeff’s carpet, the fronts of two dressers, and a door that Wilbur had rubbed against, were now permanently green.

Wilbur had turned into a Denis the Menace with hooves. He was always getting into trouble, and he was always getting yelled at or spanked for something. They say that cats are curious creatures, but they are nothing compared to an overgrown  spoiled rotten, teenage pig. We had to “Wilbur-proof” our entire house by putting brass plates on the bottom of the patio doors, putting latches on cupboard, closet, laundry, and bedroom doors; any place we wanted to try to keep Wilbur out of. Considering that this was the pig that wanted nothing to do with us his first week, we now could not get away from him! He was always under foot or getting into something he shouldn’t be. But just like that teenage kid you have that you want to hug, and strangle at the same time, we loved Wilbur, and we knew he loved us.

As much as we all loved Wilbur, we were also getting very tired of yelling at him all of the time. I didn’t know it, but Wilbur was also tired of getting yelled at all the time.

One evening after I got home from work, I was sitting on the back patio watching my favorite shows on TIVO, enjoying a cold beer, smoking a cigar, and sipping on a shot of bourbon. The dogs were inside eating their supper, so Wilbur was on the patio with me with the doors shut tight. Wilbur wanted to get inside to help the dogs finish off their suppers, so he was trying to pry the doors open with his big bottom teeth. After yelling at him about five times to leave the doors alone, and to go lie down, I had had enough. He had started trying to open the doors one more time when I stood up and screamed at him “Wilbur you are not going in the house! Go lie down before I wail the shit out of you!” Instead of running away Wilbur spun around and faced me defiantly.

This was it!  Father and teenage son squared off in a battle of wills. I was staring at him ready to either attack or defend myself, when I received a telepathic message in my head. “Why are you so mean to me? And why are you always yelling at me?” I immediately relaxed and said out loud in a calm but firm voice to him. “I yell at you because you do not listen to mtele. You have to understand that I am the boss, and what I say goes. If you will do as I say, I agree not to yell at you any more. Now go lie down and be a good pig.” Wilbur turned and walked to the other side of the patio and laid down.

Now I know that there are plenty of you out there asking yourself, “Just how many beers, and shots did you have Mike?” and to be truthful it was probably a couple of each; but the experience was real to me, and real to Wilbur, because I have not had to yell at him to get him to obey since. Rhea was very skeptical when I told her the story, but she could not account for the fact that Wilbur would listen, and obey me without having to be yelled at.

The next summer on a very hot and humid day, (as they all are here in South Florida) I came out on the patio after work. Wilbur was looking into the house through the door windows. I could see he was agitated and wanted to go inside so I asked him “What’s the matter Wilbur?” He told me in no uncertain terms that he was upset that the dogs got to stay inside the cool air-conditioned house, while he had to stay outside in the heat. I said to him, “Mommy wants you outside because she is afraid you will sneak off and hump the furniture. If you promise to leave the furniture alone, I will let you inside, but if I catch you humping the furniture, I will kick you outside, and you will spend the rest of the night outside.” Wilbur agreed. As I opened the door to let him in, Rhea said, “What are you doing? I want him outside away from the furniture!” I told her that Wilbur was jealous that the dogs get to stay inside in the cool, and that he wasn’t. I also told her that Wilbur promised to leave the furniture alone. She begrudging let him in. Wilbur walked over to an open area of the rug and laid down. He kept his word not to mess with the furniture the rest of that summer.

Now Wilbur does not always communicate with me telepathically; he normally will just grunt his displeasure if I make him do something he doesn’t want to do, just like any kid would; and I think that is cute. He is a little grumpy in the morning when he first wakes up, like most people, and he doesn’t like to be prodded outside to go to the bathroom. He is also a little grumpy when he is tired and wants to go to bed. He often reminds both Rhea, and me of my son Mitchell, who is a bit of a grouch. We think they are both cute.

The New Adventures Of Wilbur the Pig Chapter 14 "The Painted Pig"

As Wilbur approached his second birthday his appearance started undergoing a transformation. He grew what I can only describe as tusks. He had two large pointed teeth come up from his bottom jaw, one on each side of his jaw that looked like mini elephant tusks. He also had two tusks like growths that came from the front of his lower jaw and grew back toward his neck; I call these his “side bars”. These side bar tusks have had to be trimmed once a year so they wouldn’t dig into his neck and cause him extreme discomfort.

Together, these tusks give Wilbur a kind of sinister look, but he has never used them to attack or hurt anyone, or the dogs. The only time I have had to look out for them is when Wilbur wants to show me love by rubbing up against my leg. He has accidentally scraped me a couple of times when he wanted me to pet him and I wasn’t paying attention. Wilbur has never had a mean or aggressive bone in his body and he has always been very affectionate.

Wilbur is also very smart, and I do mean VERY smart. This intelligence, coupled with his stubbornness, and his spoiled rottenness, can lead to trouble. I say this because Wilbur can be very sneaky when he wants something. The thing that makes Wilbur so bad besides this sneakiness is his persistence. When Wilbur wants something, like getting in the house, or illicit food, you have to either bar the doors, or watch him constantly because Wilbur will not stop until he has got what he wants; and if he doesn’t get what he wants, he is not above tearing up the patio to show his displeasure, call it throwing his weight around if you will.

When we bought our house in Homestead, all of the interior walls and ceilings throughout the whole house were painted white. After a year and a half of all white all of the time, Rhea decided we needed some color inside the house. She had just got hired as a bartender at a tiki bar in Florida City, which gave us some spare income. We picked out colors, and bought some latex paint on sale at the Home Depot. We brought the paint home and we went to work.

We were painting the living room ceiling and walls, when Wilbur managed to pry open the back patio doors with his bottom teeth. As soon as he walked into the house he smelled the paint and made a bee line for the nearest can. We have already talked about Wilbur’s love for the smell of gasoline; well we found out that he has the same fascination for house paint. While we were distracted painting the ceiling with a fresh coat of white, Wilbur walked over and dunked his snout in the paint can! Rhea saw him and shouted “get away from there” which startled Wilbur and made him back away from the can. Too late! Wilbur’s snout now had a fresh coat of white paint on it. I got a moist rag and washed most of the paint off of his snout, then kicked his butt back outside. However, he now knew that we had “yummy” paint inside, so he bided his time, and waited for his next opportunity.

This opportunity presented itself the next day after we finished painting Sean’s bedroom. Sean decided he wanted to paint his bedroom with his favorite color, a deep forest green. After we finished, we still had half a gallon of green paint, so in order to save money Jeff decided to mix some white paint with the green to paint his bedroom a light green. Rhea and I left to buy some more paint and left Jeff alone to paint his bedroom. After painting for an hour or so, Jeff thought he would take a cigarette break on the back patio.

Out back while Jeff was distracted lighting a cigarette, and grabbing a beer, Wilbur slipped into the house unnoticed. Wilbur in his nonchalant sneaky manner ambled down the hall to Jeff’s room to find the door had been left open. Wilbur went inside, found the can, and the roller tray filled with paint, and he had a grand old time! First he stuck his snout into the paint, then he knocked the can over on to the bedroom carpet, then he flipped over the roller tray. Now that he had a nice puddle of light green paint in the middle of the carpet he rolled his entire body in the puddle!

Rhea and I came home from the store to see Jeff relaxing on the back patio. “So, how goes the painting?” I asked, “Are you done yet?” “Nah not yet, I thought I would take a little beer, and cigarette break.” He replied. I looked around the patio, “Where’s Wilbur?” I asked him. “He was just here a second or two ago….” We ran down the hall to Jeff’s room and there he was, sleeping in the middle of a huge green spot in the middle of Jeff’s cream colored rug, covered head to toe in light green paint!

Rhea almost fainted, and I blew my stack. “Wilbur! Get your piggy ass outside NOW!” Wilbur got up with a start and ran down the hall, through the living room, and out the back doors leaving little light green piggy hoof prints behind him on the white tile floors.

Wilbur looked like some punk rocker gone amok with a tattoo gun. I took the hose and sprayed down. I managed to wash some of the paint off of him, but Wilbur’s skin was a nice light green for almost two years before all of the paint finally wore off. The rug in Jeff’s room had to be torn up and replaced, because no matter how many times we washed, and shampooed it, we never got the paint out.

You want to talk about the times that try a man’s soul? After this last escapade I was seriously considering having a block party with Wilbur as the main course.

Next: Wilbur “talks” to me.