There was Linda and Mary, And neighbors they were,
With lots of kids, and good friends for sure.
They helped each other, with chores and such,
And laughed together, when life was too much.

When the cows got out, down the road they would run,
But the story I tell is of pigs in the sun.
On morn, they were gone from there pen, Oh what fun,
I know we'll be tired, when this days work is done.

We look and we prod and we stalk, and there's none,
Then finally we see them, way out in the sun.
We herd them and coax them, and wish for a gun,
But at the end of the day, us old girls, we won.

Can't get them to listen, or go to their pens,
The hours that we chased them seemed close to ten.
So out in the field, On went the light,
We'll build a fence, and be out of out plight.

The posts and the wire, We drag to the field,
A circle of posts and a fence, we do build.
We round up the critters, and indenture their souls,
Then wipe our wet brows, and sit with the moles.

Around the circle, It's getting quite hot,
We grab a sandwich, and ponder our lot.
Can't leave our pigs, or they'll squeeze underneath,
To big to carry, cause they'll chatter our teeth.

To the telly we run, and call up the school,
Kids come to mom's aid, If you're not some fools.
It goes over the intercom, to the whole school,
Embarrassment rides, No this is not cool.

Another day over, But we got the last laugh,
But I bet you tomorrow; we'll be chasing a calf.
Would the men do this? If they were to home?
Oh no! They'd shoot them, and butcher the bone.

- Linda Adsitt

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