"Did you see that?" Lee exclaimed, "That pig has no front legs!"

"I sure did!" said I. It was standing there on its hind legs, just as if it was keeping watch on the road.

Well! There was no way that we could pass by something like that without a second look. So, I stomped the brake and backed up -- maybe 100 yards. The pig was still standing there and, sure enough, no front legs. As we stopped, the pig turned abruptly with an oink and strode back to the barn. (Yes, strode!) We sat there entranced by the spectacle. Our jaws were still a-gap when the pig emerged from the barn, now with the farmer in tow. 

Seeing us, the farmer approached the car, "Howdy! How' y'all doing?"

"Hello. We're doing just fine, thank you. How about you?" 

"Well..., we is just as fine as friends can be!" he said. "Y'all lost?"  

"Yep!" I said, "but that really isn't why we stopped. We were just surprised at your pig here. We've never seen a pig let free to wander like that. Nor have we ever seen a pig walk on two legs before. And, while we aren't totally strangers to pigs, we've never before known one to fetch its master when strangers come."  

"That there be Onky, and he be one fine pig," the farmer said. "One time when Onky was just a young porker, my old hound dog fell down that there well," he gestured. "Onky, he let down the pail so the old hound could get in. Than he cranked it right back up again! My invalid ole granny saw it all from that window there. Yes-sir, Onky, he be one fine pig!"  

"Another time, one night a couple of years ago, the house caught afire when we were sleeping. Ole Onky must have smelled the smoke, 'cause he come running right into the house and up the stairs. We were dazed from the smoke, but no never-mind to Onky! One-by-one he dragged us out of bed, down the stairs and out into the yard. He sure saved our bacon that night!" With that, the farmer gave Onky an affectionate pat on the shoulder. 

"That's astonishing!" Lee said. "Your Onky truly is an amazing pig."   

"That's for sure!" I echoed, "But, tell us, whatever happened to Onky's front legs?"   

He looked puzzled, but that quickly give way to a rye smile. "Bet y'all is Cincinnati Yankees. Ain't cha!"  

"Well, yes, we are," I said.   

"Well then," he drew himself up, "I'll half to explain it to ya."  He continued somberly, "You just wouldn't eat a pig like Onky all at once!"   

Now, we are both good talkers, but neither of us was ready for that. Lee stroked his cheek . I fumbled with the car keys. Words just wouldn't come. More awkward moments passed. Finally, our composures beginning to return, we thanked him for his time and took our leave.  

I glanced in the mirror as we rounded the first bend.  Onky was jigging with the farmer and the farmer was grinning. It looked to me like Onky was grinning, too. What an amazing pig.  

Each of us retired within his own thoughts. Neither of us had had enough presence of mind to ask the way home. But, being lost just didn't seem consequential. In an hour or so, the car stopped jouncing about and we were back on blacktop again. The map got us home from there.   

While the day proved interesting enough, we never did find any green ash that wasn't on the stump.