Purity of Heart Never Lost to a Pig

The javelinas finally went away last night, over the hill to the east where,
I assume, there is a kind-hearted old woman who tosses scraps to the wildlife in exchange for threats against her life.

This morning they were back at our house, where there is a kind-hearted old man who just wants to put out a quail block for the birds who think they are angler fish.

There were seven of them; wily critters, pretending only to be interested in the seeds that the birds kick out of the hanging feeder because they are picky.
The javelinas pretended that nothing interested them more than teeny-weeny seeds with a coat of dirt.

The truth is, they were assessing how deeply into the ground I had driven the poles that support the quail block platform. They are intrepid miners, those javelinas, fully capable of toppling a simple skyscraper.

But, while I may not know quite as much about engineering as they, I am an enthusiastic shouter and arm-waver,
and my heart is of gold, unlike theirs; thieving little hogwarts that they are!

I believe in the ultimate triumph of . . . well, I don't know what, but I will win!

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