THE NIP

You were lucky not to have snuffed it
Earlier.
The way your Mum kept sitting on your head.
Was there no creep to keep you
Safe from those clumsy, mumsy hindquarters?
But she’s dead now. Her hams are dead and eaten.
Mostly.
I might observe, Piggles,
Death seems to run in your family,
Gallop even.
Then there’s that torn ear,
You don’t, I hope, mind me going on about it,
Now that both you and Mummy are so dead.
A mother should not nip her little-ones.
A mother is for nipples not for nips
And those peevish pigs’ teeth
Might have settled your hash,
cooked your goose, made mincemeat of you.
As Adulf said, das ist ein Sauerei!
Jawohl, Adulf, mein Freund!