CARLTON, THE CRIME FIGHTING PIG

Chapter 5 - Back to 2035

"Hold on," I told the pig. "Intake usually only takes about ten minutes. We check for open wounds and move you on to the vets. I didn't expect to hear your life story."

"I'm sorry," said the pig. "I've just been alone so long. I feel a need to talk."

"Well, slow it down," I said. "Just give me some particulars. How old are you and what's your name? How did you get here?

"My name is Carlton," he said. "Sheriff Chesterton-Jones gave me that name. I'm fifteen years old."

"That's more like it," I said. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I'd like a bowl of water," Carlton replied. I fetched him a gallon tub and he immediately ducked his head in and started drinking.

I took a bite of a peanut butter sandwich and admired the well-developed hog.

When he'd emptied the tub, he looked up with water dripping off his jowls and said, "I was a big help to the sheriff in Mohave County. Maybe I could help, here."

"Most of our pigs are well behaved," I answered. "and humans keep things running smoothly. We've got a good crew of volunteers."

"Even now," he mused.

He gave me a half smile.

"Let me finish my story," he said.

"Okay, but let's keep it to the important stuff."

On he went.

"Eventually, Christmas rolled around and UPS delivered several boxes of presents to the sheriff's home. I was out front, snorting around. No sooner had the delivery truck rumbled down the street, but a SUV came screeching up and two skinny young men hopped out of the right-hand doors. They came running up to the porch and began grabbing those boxes.

"Instinct took over and I tore after them. I weighed about one hundred pounds by then and I bowled those punks over like they were duckpins. First, I'd ram one and then I'd clobber the other one. I took a bite out of the ankle of the one who'd been in the back seat.

"Those punks were hobbling, hell-bent for leather, back to their car when the squad car pulled up. Sheriff Chesterton-Smith pulled out his pistol and pushed the two would-be thieves into the back of his car. Once they were locked in, he grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and a roll of gauze from the trunk, put on the gloves, and told the bloody one to wrap up his ankle. He was going to the hospital."

The sheriff wondered at the territorial behavior of the pig that he'd planned on eating in four months. Carlton, by then, had learned English from watching television with the wives and their nine kids.

The sheriff looked in the rearview mirror of the squad car and he thought he saw a smile on the pig's face. He didn't know what to think.

After putting the two crooks in their cells, his shift ended, a deputy took over, and Chesterton-Smith headed home.

Four of his grandkids were tossing a rubber ball for Carlton to fetch. The sheriff stopped his car. As Carlton dropped the ball into one of the kid’s hand, Jebediah thought he heard Carlton say, "Here ya go."

Out loud, the sheriff said, "Am I losing my marbles?"

Carlton trotted over to him and said, with a swinish accent, "Nope."

"I'll be damned," said the sheriff.

Carlton just squealed. he was so happy.