One good way to get your mind off of things is to visit the pigs.
They start grunting as soon as they see me walking down the path. Their snouts work the air, sniffing out possible treats. I often bring them hunks of old cheese, which they eat with relish, smacking their lips loudly. I scratch them between their ears; their hair is rough, like running your hand over pine needles.
Even more entertaining are the piglets. They’re like a circus act, running to and fro as they make a woof-woof sound, tousling each other, rolling around. When I approach, they turn and stare, ears forward, ready to bolt. Suddenly, they dash away. Then they turn and slowly walk over, sniffing and wagging their curly tails, curiosity winning out, as it always does.