On Sandridge Road

I don’t remember when it was that being ever-on-the-lookout for deer on the highway became the driving norm on the Peninsula. By now, it is second nature to watch the roadsides for deer about to cross. Not just one, but two – one after the other. And, if there’s anything on the road ahead (way, way ahead) that doesn’t look like a vehicle, it seems almost automatic that the right foot goes from accelerator to brake.

So it was yesterday as I was driving south on Sandridge, already a bit late for an appointment in Long Beach. I was probably three miles out of Oysterville when I spotted a gray lumpish looking object ahead of me. It was in the oncoming lane near the center line, but didn’t appear to be moving very fast. It was the wrong shape and color for a possum. Ditto a porcupine. And it definitely wasn’t a bear or a deer.

Garth Williams’ Wilbur

There was no other traffic at the moment, so I slowed enough to take a good look. It was a pig! His long tail (yes, long!) was wagging back-and-forth like a metronome but, otherwise, he (or she) was motionless and appeared quite content. He was headed north, though obviously not in any hurry to get there.

I was already past him when I thought, “I should take a picture. Never mind that I’ll be late. That’s a picture that will be worth the proverbial thousand words.” I pulled into the next driveway but before I could back up and make my turn, here came a big construction truck. As I waited for it to pass I felt the inevitability of a squashed-pig photo. But no! Pig was still there, still heading north but now slightly across the center line in the south-bound lane. The truck was a hundred yards or so ahead, moving slowly now with the driver no doubt looking in his rear view mirror wondering “What the hell?”

Phil Wilson’s Three Little Pigs

It’s not every day that you see a pig on Sandridge Road. And since my poorly informed vision of a pig is of something white or pink with a tight curly tail – like Garth Williams’ picture of Wilbur on the dust jacket of Charlotte’s Web – until I pulled up right next to ‘the gray lump’ I wasn’t a hundred percent sure this actually was a pig.

He was totally friendly – looked right at me when I spoke to him and made no move to hurry away. As I U-turned and passed him by once more, I hoped he would find his way home. Surely he wasn’t the little pig going to market. And he certainly wasn’t Wilbur.