Rene's story- a three pigs addendum

Rene's Story
Great. I knew when the Revolutionary Guard showed up in the form of a big, grey wolf that my life had been completely turned upside down. I just never realized how much. Michel and Pierre- my two brothers- have just asked me if they can live with me! I don’t know why I ever let them move in in the first place- much less why I’d ever let them stay. They are family, and Mother gave me the responsibility to take care of them, so I guess it just comes down to the fact that I have to do something for them, so I really don’t have a choice but to let them move in. Michel and Pierre are virtually helpless- dumb as hay rakes, if you must know- and now that their homes have been destroyed, they need a place to stay. But why should I bother helping them? After all, they should have considered it more themselves before they built houses that a stupid wolf could blow down. But, then I sort of led them into it, I guess. After all, I did give them the money to build the houses they wanted, even when I knew the houses weren’t very solidly designed. That’s why they’re here now. I shouldn’t have done it to them, but I couldn’t help myself. Besides, Mother did give me all the money for a reason- those two would have spent it in a minute, and now we have enough to build two new houses for them, thanks to me. And it’s not like they suffered until the wolf came knocking- they had exactly what they wanted. It does sort of feel like divine justice, though, that my house survived. After all, they never treated me any better.
We were raised on a farm in Paris, in a large white clapboard barn with fifteen other pigs and a multitude of other animals. As a baby, I was the runt of the litter, and you could tell it immediately when you saw me next to my litter mates. I had slanty eyes- a definite mark of runt status in our barn- and a little bit of a hump to my back. And I was skinny- little more than skin and bones held together by will power. Maybe that will power is what Mother saw in me later when she trusted me to watch out for the others, because she knew I had what it took to make it. It isn’t like I had a choice in that- I had to have it to get through my childhood.
When we were growing up, I had to fight for every scrap of food, and every sip of mother’s milk that I got. To make it worse, from the start, Michel and Pierre called me terrible names. Unfortunately, most of the other pigs jumped on their bandwagon almost immediately because they were big and handsome, which I wasn’t. In fact, the first memory I have of the outside world was my first walk out into the pig pen, and the way the other pigs jeered at me. They called me everything from “Slanty” to “Hunchy Bunchy” and worse. No one thought I’d ever survive- and I nearly didn’t because of the way my brothers treated me. Almost everyone in the pig pen harassed me throughout our childhood, but it was my siblings- especially Michel- who were the worst culprits. It became a daily event for me, just going over to the trough for dinner, constantly wondering who would insult me this time, or who would step in the slop with dirty feet just as I came up to eat.
When we were small, more often than not, I had to be smarter than Michel if I wanted to sneak into the trough before all of the slop in it was gone. It didn’t take me long to realize that I could sneak UNDER him, since he was so much bigger than I was. And I also had to work hard to maintain the few friendships I had in the pen- my ladies Natalia and Marie, who would support me through everything, and the guys- Paul and Jean Claude- who could be counted on in a fight. Every chance I had, I gave some of my treats to those four, and they became more of a family than my own family ever was. I never forgot those early lessons either. I soon determined that if I couldn’t be the strongest or the biggest, I’d be the smartest and the most popular. Use the skills you have, I told myself, and I set about it with a vengeance as soon as I was old enough. Pierre was too lazy to care, which I didn’t mind. Michel was too focused on his art to learn the skills that would serve him well- things like finding truffles, which I started to learn as soon as possible.
I was lucky- Lord De Basque started training me for truffle hunting just before the Revolution started last year, and I was able to use those basic skills to get the best paying job on the manor where we live now. I hoarded every penny I could earn- along with what was left of our initial stash of money from Mother- and built myself a fortune in the few months we’ve lived here. Lord De Basque always said that runts were smarter than the average pig- and my new boss says the same thing. I don’t know about all runts- but then, maybe they are. We all have gone through the most traumatic experience any pig can imagine, and maybe in order to survive, we runts generally have to be smarter than the run of the mill pig. Maybe that’s what we’re supposed to learn when we’re suffering as babies- how to use our brains, if we can’t use our brawn. But sometimes- oh, sometimes- you get to do BOTH. That’s what finally happened for me about a month before the Revolution. Michel was harassing me at the slop one night, taunting me with a bright red apple that had been given to Mother. “You’ll never get this from me!” he screamed, tossing the apple up into the air with his mouth and catching it, watching the other ten pigs around us laughing at his antics. My four friends were in another corner, munching on some corn, and waiting for the confrontation.
Pierre- who had gained a lot of weight that summer as well- joined in. “Yeah, Rene. You’re too little to catch it- and we’re not going to give it to you!” They threw the apple between them, time and again. I couldn’t even come close to catching it, and I didn’t try very hard. Finally, I saw an opening. Whenever Michel would jump up to toss the apple, he lost his balance for a second, landing on his back feet before he could on his front feet. I immediately took advantage of that weakness, and knocked him on his kinky tail! It was the high point of my life, and I will never forget the admiration on Mother’s face when she saw how smart I was. That was a first, and it was a major turning point for me- it was the moment I grew up, and I think everyone recognized that. I came down with the apple that time, and Michel never taunted me again. He finally learned his lesson.
I guess maybe having them both move in with me is a lesson too. After all, I was probably mean to them by not sharing the benefit of my education-maybe even really mean, like they had been to me for so long. I never thought of it that way, I guess. I just wanted to live the life I feel I deserve for my efforts. It’s so obvious right now- if you are mean, it will come back to haunt you- even if you ARE the runt, and even if you ARE the smart one. I suppose there is another lesson in there too, since I told them Yes. No matter how much you may dislike each other, you have to put up with family, because you’re basically stuck with them.