Walter and I were products of the same farrowing, so I thought I knew just about everything there was to know about him.  That's why I was so surprised when I started hearing the odd stories about him.
    "Didn't you know?  Walter's going to be taken to the House any day now!" said Prissy.
    "Oh, yes!  The farmer's daughter has taken a shine to him!  He's going to be her pet," said Joe.
    "He's going to eat just what the humans eat.  No more slop for him!" said Henrietta.
    "And, of course, no (ulp) ... you know what, either!" said Harry.
    We were all getting to an age where pigs started disappearing, never to be heard from again, so, yes, I knew what.
    "Where did you hear this?" I asked skeptically.
    "Straight from the pig's mouth!" they said. "Walter himself!"

    "So, Walter," I said the next time we were lounging around the mudhole. "What's this I hear about your being taken to the House?"
    "Absolutely true!" swore Walter. "Farmer's daughter likes me.  It's a very common occurrence.  Lots of stories about things like that."
    "But, Walter," I continued, as diplomatically as possible, "the farmer doesn't have a daughter."
    "Oh, well," said Walter. "I meant to say the farmer's son."
    "The farmer's son is grown and lives in the next state," I reminded him. "He hasn't set foot on this farm in years."
    "Well, maybe it was the farmer's wife ..."
    "Walter," I said gently, "we're farrowmates.  I know when you're talking hogwash.  What's this about?"
    Walter blushed slightly.
    "Oh," he said, "it's just a story I tell myself.  Makes life a little easier to face.  There's no harm in it."

    A couple of weeks later, as I was bellying up to the trough, I heard Walter chatting with Prissy.  Henrietta and Joe had not been seen for days.
    "Aren't you afraid?" asked Prissy. "That, you know, they'll come for you."
    "Oh, no," scoffed Walter airily. "Not me!  They have plans for me!"
    "What kind of plans?" asked Prissy.
    "Prize breeding boar," said Walter. "That's me."
    "I thought you'd been castrated," said Prissy suspiciously.
    "Nope!" insisted Walter. "Not me!"
    "Oh, really?" said Prissy, coyly sidling up to him.  Walter started backing up.  Prissy craned her neck, trying to get a peek at his nether regions.  Walter trotted off, with Prissy in hot pursuit.
    Now, I was in the pen with him when they did the foul deed, and I can tell you that he squealed just as loudly as the next piglet.  I would have mentioned that, but Walter seemed to have his trotters full as it was.

    The next time I saw Walter, he was talking to a knot of piglets.  Harry and Prissy were gone from the yard.
    "When you grow up, you'll be able to tell your piglets that you knew me," said Walter with a wink.
    "Oh, really?" squealed the piglets. "Why would we want to do that?"
    Walter shook his head mysteriously.  "I'm going to be a very famous pig," he said.
    "Gosh!" they squealed again. "Why?"
    "Just you wait and see!" said Walter.
    When he saw me watching, he said goodbye to the piglets and sauntered over.  I raised my eyes quizzically.  He shrugged.
    "Yeah," he said, "it's just one of those stories I tell myself."

    The men have been coming and going for days now.  Pigs have been disappearing.  It's been days since I've seen Walter.  I reckon he's been taken up to the House.  I expect he'll be calling me to join him any day now.