Page 7 of Unbar the Barred
Bubba, a Kunekune pig, was tinyanda Houdini. Highly intelligent, he had figured out how to escape the pig pen to come up and visit Cassidy. He didn’t come every day, but because he was so small and couldn’t climb the steps to the porch, he would go under and squeak and grunt loudly to get Cassidy’s attention. The problem was, he was tiny, but his belly wasn’t, so he’d get stuck under the porch. Like he was now. Cassidy was too big to go under and get him, so he had to talk Bubba out of the tight squeeze.
“Excuse me. Erm, can you tell us where we can find Cassidy?”
In a fluid move, Cassidy rose from where he was crouched, looking at the group of men all dressed in jeans and plaid shirts that didn’t make them look any more like a cowboy than if they’d worn a sign saying it.
He tipped his cowboy hat. “I’m Cassidy. They call me Cass around these parts.”
“I’m Hollis,” said the man in front of the group. He pointed to the other men one by one, “Bowie, Wilder, Monty, Frey, Isley, Lennon and that’s Ziggy.” They all raised a hand and offered him a smile, some more nervous than others.
“Nice to meetcha. I’m sorry, I’m runnin’ a little behind as Bubba is stuck. I’ve been tryin’ to coax him out from under the porch steps.”
“Bubba?” Frey asked, coming closer and crouching down to peer under the steps.
“A Kunekune pig I hand reared. He’s real clever, just not when it comes to judgin’ gaps, which gets him wedged under my cabin, more often than not.” Cassidy released a heartfelt sigh.
“I could shift and go help him, if he wouldn’t freak at my fox.”
“Why, that’s mighty kind of you. Bubba’s not frightened of other animals.” Cassidy lowered his voice. “He got little pig syndrome.”
Bowie came forward, looking intrigued. “What’s that?”
“Why, he believes he’s bigger than all the other animals.”
“Is that bad?” Bowie sounded worried.
“Nope, he’s a small pig with a big attitude. The other animals don’t hold it against him ‘cause he don’t mean no harm.”
While he was talking, Frey stripped off his shirt and Cassidy noticed the mating mark before Frey shifted. He peered up out of his jeans as he wiggled to climb out. A moment later he sniffed under the porch, then he made a small vocal noise that was cute as the fox himself before he crawled under.
There was some grunting and more squealing, then Bubba darted out between Cassidy’s legs, his little black body wiggling with excitement. Cassity laughed, scooping Bubba up to kiss the dirty snout. “How many times I gotta say, don’t go under the porch?”
The hairy snout rubbed Cassidy’s cheek as Bubba recounted just how happy he was to see Cassidy. Then he noticed the crowd of men, and he grunt-snorted a greeting at them, causing them to giggle.
“He’s cute,” Bowie murmured. “Do you think he’d mind if I stroked him?”
“He’s not a horse,” Wilder pointed out.
“He likes bein’ petted.” Cassidy strolled closer to Bowie. “Hold out your arms.” When he did, Cassidy laid Bubba in the crook of Bowie’s arm, getting a shy smile in response. “See? He’ll stay in the crook of your arm all day if you let him.”
Cassidy chuckled as Bubba rested his hairy chin on Bowie’s forearm and closed his eyes, making a snorting noise that was all pleasure when Bowie stroked a gentle finger down his back.
“Frey, do you need a place to shift and dress in private?” Hollis looked about as Frey sat next to his clothes, a few cobwebs stuck to his brush.
“He can use my cabin, if that suits?”
Frey walked up the steps and waited at the door. Cassidy got beaten to collecting Frey’s clothes by Ziggy.
“Door’s open, we’ll wait here for you. Then I can take you up to the henhouse to meet my girls.”
“Your girls?” Lennon asked, blushing as Cassidy gave him a wide smile.
“Yep, my chicks.”
Wilder went to Bowie and gave Bubba a scritch behind his ears. “I like this when folks do it to my raccoon.”
“Don’t I know it,” Bowie moaned. “The last time you wouldn’t let me stop for over an hour. My arm felt like it didn’t belong to me.”
Cassidy listened to them chatting, seeing easily they were more than folks who worked together. They were friends. Somewere quieter than others, except they always included everyone when they were talking. A family. That’s what they were.
