"Huff and puff" calls to mind that storied enemy of pigs, the Big, Bad Wolf. But surely this particular pig, this Son of the Soil, has a more down-to-earth antagonist? Here in the real world, it's not some fairy tale baddie who's going to do him in—it's the very smokehouse he represents! Oh, but we can't be too disappointed in ol' Huffy. He's obviously a bit… simple? Tetched, even? (At his age, still playing peek-a-boo.) He's sweet and special, like a big, stupid flower.
The crucial questions before we call Social Services: Does he have any idea what he's gotten himself into? Is he capable of offering informed consent?
Or, to put it another way: Does he know why his overalls smell of pecan smoke at the end of the day? The way he's huddling against the sign tells us of his familiarity with every aspect of the operation. After all, he's spent countless days inhaling that smoke.
He knows. Surely he knows.
Very well. He knows. Yet, does he have the capacity to decide for himself to stick around?
Look in his eyes. His yellow, yellow eyes.
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