30/11/2025
Where on Earth Is Walter?
It was a cold November morning and Scribbles was moving the horses to the Christmas field.
“Walter, you can go out too—if you don’t escape.”
He oinked like he agreed.
He lied.
Scribbles counted the horses through the gate, then—
“Walter? …Walter?!”
He was already sprinting to the wrong gate.
“ON AN ADVENTURE!” he shouted, wedging himself under the fence.
“Walter Brown, get BACK here!”
Bertie ran after him. The horses celebrated loudly. The cats judged everyone.
They searched the lane, sheds, yard, stables, cows, neighbours, bins—because Walter loved bins—and still no pig.
By evening everyone was worried sick.
Then the phone rang.
“Have you lost a pig? There’s one trying to move in with the cows.”
They rushed over.
There he was, stuck in a narrow cow passage, chatting to calves like he lived there now.
“Walter Brown, what are you doing?”
“Making friends.”
“You’ve been gone ALL DAY!”
“Oh… did I miss dinner?”
She sighed and guided him out backwards, cows watching the whole show.
“Come on, you troublesome pig. Home.”
