Once upon a time, there were many flying pigs in the world, all born and living on Flying Pig Farm.
It is still difficult to get a local to talk about ‘The Day’, but if you are respectful and considerate, you might find someone in the town nearby to describe that day, long ago. The day that a horde of zombies made its way through the small town and to the farm, destroying nearly every flying pig.
For a time, there were thought to be no ambulatory flying pigs left in the world, as the zombies were so destructive that reanimation was impossible.
But one little piglet made it out.
Yes, he was injured.
Yes, he was zombified.
And though he was small and frightened, he knew from this early age that he had a big responsibility.
As the last flying pig, living or dead, he had to show the world that flying pigs are not the unicorns of the porcine universe.
They are real.
This little winged creature bravely embraced his responsibility. He knew, because he was zombified, that he would be feared. He knew he would be subjected to discrimination, even humiliation. So he had to find a safe place, one that offered the ability for him to prove that flying pigs exist. He had to give hope to all those who yearn to believe that the impossible can happen. He was “living” proof that not only can pigs fly, but that even when turned to zombies, these little guys can be loving, caring, contributing members of society.
His name (pause)
was Zombie Pig.
It was autumn in New England, when Zombie Pig was born. When the zombies came through his small Vermont hamlet, he had no means by which to protect himself and was quickly dispensed with.
And yet, once reanimated, his wings were in-tact, and he taught himself to fly.
He knew he needed to leave the farm, to find the platform from which to spread his message.
But first, he needed to prove that he did not need human brains to survive, as a brain eating zombie pig would have a harder time integrating into polite society than one not requiring cranial injury to achieve gastronomic satisfaction. Luckily, chance encounters with tuna, lucky charms and, later, lobster made it possible for Zombie Pig to avoid leaving such carnage in his wake.
As winter approached, Zombie Pig left the farm and first flew ‘across the pond’ to the English countryside, where he befriended an old farmer and his loyal farm horse. Unfortunately, it was very difficult to find tuna fish, and the recent outcry against Lucky Charms appearing on U.K. supermarket shelves (sugar content and GMO concerns were highlighted in the papers) brought negative attention to anyone purchasing the cereal. So, since he had not discovered his ability to squelch his cravings for brains with lobster, Zombie Pig said goodbye to the kindly farmer and headed back to the U.S.
Winter that year was brutal, and Zombie Pig was weak from hunger and did not have the energy to fly.
As he made his way over the harsh landscape and through the snow, he found himself in the small fishing village of Rockport, Massachusetts. There he befriended a fisherman, who introduced him to his family. They all welcomed a tired and hungry Zombie Pig into their home.
Zombie Pig had plenty of access to fresh tuna in Rockport, and the fisherman’s young son dropped plenty of Lucky Charms on the floor each morning. But Zombie Pig knew that the fisherman and his family did not offer the platform he needed to spread his message of hope to the world.
As spring approached, Zombie Pig needed cash for his journey to look for a permanent home. He got a job on a lobster boat where – in a freak incident involving a lobster claw landing in his mouth while he had his head back and mouth open to catch some rain (because that’s how he prefers to hydrate) – he found out that lobster was another food item that held his desire to dine on humans at bay.
Once he’d earned enough money, Zombie Pig thanked the Rockport fisherman and his family and hit the road. Initially, he stayed close to the ocean, knowing lobster and tuna were plentiful there. He even hitched a ride on a ferry to Monhegan Island off the coast of Maine.
There he met an old man who dug clams for a living. But, Zombie Pig quickly realized that an island ten miles off the coast of Maine was not going to offer the communication platform he needed either. So he went back to the mainland.
And then he travelled in and out of weeks and over a year just like Max did in Where the Wild Things Are but without a private boat and an ocean and large monsters who roared terrible roars and gnashed terrible teeth and rolled terrible eyes and showed terrible claws.
And Zombie Pig finally came to a road sign that gave him the feeling that he had arrived exactly where he was supposed to be.
And he has been there ever since.
Embraced by his brothers and sister, provided with plenty of tuna and Lucky Charms (and lobster, because he now summers in Maine), and given what he has always wanted…
A platform that has allowed him to present himself to all the world as a symbol of hope and the impossible being possible.
Through the magic of a Dingleville blog, Zombie Pig has been seen across the United States, Canada and the United Kingdom. He is known in Ireland, Germany, France, Spain, and Portugal. He has fans in Australia and New Zealand. And from Ghana to Mexico, Hong Kong to South Africa and many other countries, people now know he exists.
Switzerland, by the way, is staying neutral on the hope thing and whether he is real or not, but he expected that.
So there you have it.
From a reanimated little flying piglet to a symbol of hope.
The impossible is possible.
Thanks for readin’.
* As always, you can come on over to Just Ponderin’s facebook page to comment or just hang out.
Also, I’ve gotten a bunch of requests for me to divulge the details of who actually created Zombie Pig.
Okay, with the help of a wonderfully creative woman named Miranda. I hear he has relatives willing to make the journey to your doorstep :))
*Also, Zombie Pig wants to give a nod to painters Michael McGovern, Anatoly Dverin, Andrew Menna, and Gillian Tyler for creating the backdrops for his adventures in Vermont, England, Rockport, and Monhegan Island so well.
*Also, Also: A lovely collage of how Zombie Pig could have perished by posing for photos with his brothers and sister