For the Love of Mud

On our family farm in my early teens, I had a lovely pet pig called Lizzie. Every morning, Lizzie would follow me down to the paddock, where I would turn on the tap. As the running water was forming a nice puddle, Lizzie would hop in and wallow and splash to her heart’s content. One day I was late going to the pigpen. When I got there, Lizzie was nowhere to be found but the gate to the pen was in a mess. Lizzie had put her nose under the door, pushed it up and escaped. She was already down in the paddock. She had managed to rub against the tap, which was still running, and was busy enjoying her daily wallow in the mud and water.