It has been a while—more than two years, in fact—since we last saw a pig exhibit such a florid case of psychiatric illness.
That his haunches be saucy is apparently of the gravest import to this pig. We detect the hallmarks of obsessive-compulsive disorder in the enthusiastic drenching. Do you get the feeling that this is not the first time he has gone through this ritual? Perhaps… not even the first time today?
We wonder: in the pig's mental ledger, does he come out ahead? Is it all worth it? Is there anything rational left inside his overthrown mind that can weigh the outcomes and arrive at a conclusion?
And may we observe how sad it is that the pig's knowledge of his own body is so poor. Yes, he is saucing his "butt," but pork butt refers not to the meat of a pig's rump, but of his shoulder. How strange, how wrong, that we—of all people!—should know this, while the pig does not.