This story is my Dad's, it was told to me a short while ago. I tried my best to remember and write it down.
So we all once lived on this farm, and we had a pig named Freddy. Mom raised him, having to bottle feed him since he was so weak. Me and my brothers rode on it until Mom told us to stop, that it’s not built to ride. It was a pet pig, we just let it wander around, and when it was time to eat. We just called “Freddy!” “Dinner!” and he came from the woods.
Then one day it was hog slaughtering time, and Dad just came back in with the gun. He aimed the gun at the pig, but he couldn’t shoot. “It was too much like a pet, it was too tame..” Was pretty much what he said. It just rubbed against his legs when he lowered the gun, like a dog. Mom said well we need the money, Dad said he just can’t shoot it. Mom said to sell it. And Freddy got sold at an auction fair thing. Freddy got sold to a killer, he never got attached to a pig prior.
But he couldn’t shoot it. Same reason, “It was too tame, like a dog.” He said why in the hell did we get this thing then? His wife said to sell him, and Freddy got sold again. And same thing happened, he couldn’t shoot him. So Freddy got to be a Brooder, or Breeder. I guess the farmer thought the pigs genes were nice, since he was so nice, and that it could get passed down to the piglets. So Freddy stayed there for the rest of his days, at least as far as I know.