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House Arrest

March 1st, 2016 · No Comments

We have renamed Willoughby. He is now BEN. Like the evil mastermind rat in the movie of the same name. Also, the title song by Michael Jackson.

Young Piggie has become quite adventurous in the last few weeks. I let him out to “play” on the couch next to me, but then the brave one jumped off the side and decided that the living room floor was so much more…well, MORE!

I soon allowed him to run laps around the loveseat and play hide and seek in the curtains. I mean, I just can’t stand how damn cute he is when his little snout pops out from under the skirting!

Then just the other day while sitting with Dad, watching TV and snacking on carrots, he dashed down Dad’s leg and straight off the end of the recliner! Like greased lightening! Willoughby was having mini piggy races with himself from living room to dining room and back again! Thinking it was funny, we cheered him on, “Go Man Go!”

Suddenly, the maniacal activity ceased. We assumed he had exhausted himself and was probably catching his breath under the loveseat. Too much time had passed. We began the hunt. We lifted couches, moved tables, curtains… no piggy. Panic sets in. What if he squeezed under a closed door? What if he got outside? We moved couches again, curtains, checked every room in the house, even up the stairs! No piggy. After two hours of unrest, we actually gave up and by midnight went to bed. Obviously, Mom and Dad did not sleep soundly that night.

In the morning, Hubby had finally spotted the little turd as he ran under the couch.  Hubby lifted up one end while I dove under to snag him up whilst he chewed on a book tucked under there.

Needless to say, BEN has not been allowed out to “play” anymore. Damn kids, they will push the boundaries every time.

Willoughby house arrest


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