Pigs
Can Fly Too!
Once
there was a pig named Arnold who wanted to learn how to dance. So he
went to town one evening, to a local dance club where music played
till the wee small hours. Now pigs were not really welcome in this
town, especially in dancing establishments, since they were known to
make far too much noise with their clacking hooves.
But
Arnold was not to be dissuaded. He had waited a long time for this
and was intent upon doing what he came to do. At the dance club was
a maid named Harriet who was known to be extremely friendly. She had
dated most of the men in town including the village clergyman who was
alleged to be celibate. Now Harriet knew a trick or two. “She had
been around,” as they say, and was well experienced. Not too many
men would have anything to do with her now since her reputation had
spread so far and wide.
When
Arnold arrived all eyes in the club were turned toward him. He was
such a strange sight amidst the color and cacophony of this dance
crowd that most everyone stood up to stare at him.
“Pigs
don’t dance,” someone was heard to say.
“And
they surely can’t fly,” added another voice.
“But
they do make a good roast pork,” yelled someone else.
And
everyone in the club laughed with glee, except for Arnold of course.
He found none of this amusing. Especially since many of the
references were about his body being so appetizing.
Harriet
noticed him right away and came over to greet him.
“Good
evening sir pig,” she began. “What brings you to this den of
iniquity?”
“Well,”
Arnold began, “I have come from a far off place where pigs are
known to be quite a delicacy. But beyond that, they are appreciated
for little else. I thought if I could prove that we have other
talents besides being delicious, perhaps we could be treated with
more respect.
“You
see, when I was young we were prepared for our inevitable fate of
gracing a fine dinner table. But as I grew older I began to question
this and decided to venture out on my own to see what I could
discover. In my travels I have tried many things. I have flown in
airplanes, jumped from them in a parachute, raced a car at a
speedway, swam great distances and climbed some very high mountains.
But never in all of those adventures did I have the opportunity to
dance.”
“And
that is why you are here?” Harriet inquired.
“Yes
indeed,” he replied. “I am here to dance. That has always been a
dream. Even when I was small I fantasized gliding across a dance
floor in coattails and black tie to the delight of those watching and
the pleasure of my dance partner.”
“Well,”
said Harriet, “that’s quite a dream. You do realize of course
that pigs very often are asked to leave such premises as their hooves
make so much noise on the hardwood dance floor?”
“Yes,
yes, this I know,” he repeated. “But I have come prepared. I
brought special shoes which will allow me to glide across the dance
floor with nary a sound to be heard.”
“Show
me your shoes,” Harriet asked.
And
out of Arnold’s carryall came a pair of winged tipped slippers.
They actually had wings on them, much as seen in the movies. To
demonstrate what his winged shoes could do, Arnold put them on and
began to glide around the dance floor. He gracefully and quietly
completed one quick loop to the utter amazement of everyone present.
Harriet was duly impressed.
“Yes,”
she spoke, “those are truly remarkable shoes. I believe I’d like
to glide with you myself. If you would be so kind?” as she offered
him her hand.
And
off they went, the two of them, slipping and sliding across the
brightly lit dance floor, to the complete astonishment of everyone
watching. She, the well known street matron, and he, a pig, no more
or less, were dancing together as if God intended it that way. As the
evening wore on they became more and more adept with each other and
with each piece of music. A tango, a samba, a step dance, a waltz,
all performed with majestic grace and flawlessly executed through
every move.
The
patrons, now past being incredulous, took careful notice. Slowly
they gathered around to watch this most unusual pair glide across the
dance floor as if they hadn’t a care in the world, as if they had
been destined to dance together for God’s pleasure only. The
couple remained oblivious to their audience. Only each other’s eyes
they took note of as each graceful step was taken, while the rhythm
of the music swept them further and further into a transcendent
rapture.
Finally
the music stopped and our odd couple came to a halt. The evening of
dancing was over and this they both knew. But now what? Would they
meet again? Was that ever possible? Was it even desirable? No one
could say. As Harriet and Arnold parted company they thanked each
other for a wonderful evening. She thanked him for being such a
gentleman. And he thanked her for helping him fulfill another dream.
As
they went their separate ways an eerie stillness seemed to take hold
of the night. The moon glowed softly off in the distance and the
stars twinkled brightly in the inky sky. Arnold had another dream
completed and Harriet did as well. Both had a special purpose
fulfilled that no one else could do for them. When Harriet returned
home she felt beautiful and alive. No one had ever treated her so
graciously. She felt grateful and made a promise that she would never
cheapen herself again for anyone’s favor.
And
what about Arnold? Well he was a happy chap after all. He had danced
the night away like the air was filled with magic. He could only
imagine how much better it might have been if Harriet had been a pig
also. “But,” he thought, “who could know that a pig would
dance that well in the first place? But that’s no so important,”
he went on. “What is important is that I fulfilled my dream and my
dreams are what make me who I am. Who can say what I’ll dream
tonight and how that may turn out? One thing for certain, whatever
God wants me to be is what I’ll become and I’ll do it to the best
of my ability.”
And
with that thought, Arnold started to drift off, happily on his way to
dreamland where he could become a caterpillar on horseback, a cat on
a flying trapeze, a monkey in a fire station, a damsel in a tower, or
something else; he’d know for certain in the morning. Until then he
would let this evening’s magic carry him to whatever fanciful
adventure he might imagine next. For in the dream state one could
happily travel from one world to another, learn an important lesson
and move on. There was no end to this process of growth and learning
and no end to the opportunities and characters that would come his
way. His new friend Harriet had been one such arrival and there were
likely many more like her. And who says that “Pigs can’t fly.”
If that’s what they dream of, then fly they must. For eventually
all dreams become a reality if you believe in them enough. So off to
sleep Arnold went.
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