Rachael and I have a friendly game going. It isn’t a competition—not really. The rules of this game are as follows: We keep tally of all the books we’ve finished over a calendar year, some read and some listened to, and I try to keep her from tripling my number. It’s a fun game that I’m apt to lose eventually, even after “cheating” by finding shorter books and comic book collections (bound books of 8-10 comics).
Speaking of cheating, my wife was away this weekend and—wait, no! Get that out of your head, man! I’m still talking about the competition. So yeah, she was out of town on a YMCA-sanctioned Moms and Sons camping trip and I knew she wouldn’t have a lot of time to read. I was near completing two books, and after doing so, I decided to fit another, much shorter, book into my read list. The book I chose was A Day No Pigs Would Die, a happy tale about a boy, his loving relationship with his father, and his beloved pet pig.
Spoiler alert: The pig dies! And after that, the dad dies too, though that one didn’t bear the same weight as the pig because pigs are innocent and well, sorry dad.
Before you complain, this book was written in the early seventies so I figure if you haven’t read it yet, you’ve only yourself to blame for learning the end of it.
Okay yeah, I felt it coming. And I prepared. I continuously reminded myself not to attach myself to the pig the way I did with Old Yeller (fuck that book) and with the dogs in Where the Red Fern Grows, which was at least slightly less horrifying. But each time the narrator stepped toward foreshadowing, everything would be fine. There was a storm, it was fine. There was a snake, it was fine. The pig was at the fair for a few days without the boy, and it was fine! Plus, the book says NO pigs would die!
As you may be able to tell by now, I’m not a fan of well written books about a boy coming of age by killing that which is most dear to him simply because grown men have to make hard decisions. And yet I seem to read them anyway because, as I said, they’re well written and so they suck you in like a shrimp to an angler fish. Ooh! Look at the pretty light which I love and– CRUNCH! Dead.
It’s never the moment itself—it’s remembering the moment. It’s afterward when you can’t help but reminisce on just how happy and healthy that pig, or dog, or dogs (plural) were leading up to the moment they were betrayed. It’s that little tail wag, that dumb animal innocence of “Yay! My person is here and it’s a lovely day!” That stabs me in the heart deeper and deeper each time I think about it.
So yeah, as of this writing I’ve read 23 books so far this year compared to Rachael’s 53. Damn, I’m going to lose.
I saw that title on your Goodreads list and had to laugh. I remember my 7th grade class reading it; though I can’t remember if I read it specifically or just heard the book reports. I think the latter. Actually now I can remember what book I read instead, but not the title. Go figure. The Day No Pigs Would Die is a pretty unforgettable title. Anyhow, moral of the story: competing with Rachael is a fool’s game. Oh, you should probably check out My Friend Flicka, too. Oh and The Yearling, which might actually be my favorite book.
I have read The Yearling, but it’s been long enough that I didn’t remember until you said it just now. Another one for the Goodreads count–unfortunately it won’t count toward this year though. Also, WHY IN THE WORLD ARE YOU SUGGESTING MORE OF THESE, YOU PSYCHO!