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Cautionary housing tales (A bedtime story)

By Dan St. Yves

Once upon a time there were three little pigs. They lived in a forest that surrounded the suburbs of a major North American city, identifiable by a distinctive and high-reaching tower. Sure, the forest was woody, and filled with silverfish, but there was a Wal-Mart and a Starbucks, so life wasn’t that bad after all.

One day, a wolf from the nearby countryside came to visit. He had read an online article about pork stir-fry, and simply couldn’t find an abundance of piggies up in the rugged terrain he called home. Plus, he had a coupon for a dollar off a grande mocha latte.

Well, the first thing the old wolf spotted when he arrived were the three little pigs, napping under a tree by a babbling brook (the brook had a bit of “running dementia”, and could sure carry on with the babbling). Fortunately, the old wolf had brought along his non-stick wok, which he had planned on using to wallop any pigs he came across. However, his arthritic knees popped all the way along his approach, awakening the pigs, and each ran off, squealing all the way home. One had roast beef. One became a nun.

To protect themselves from this vicious predator, each pig decided to build a home. One used straw, which failed preliminary building inspections. The bylaw officer burned it down with a flame-thrower, essentially preparing that hapless little piggy for the old wolf. With just a dash of sweet and sour sauce, Piggy #1 was a delightful complement to a side of chop suey.

Hey, isn’t that how you call a piggy?? “Soo-ee!!!” Ironic.

Further along the way, the old wolf came across the hastily constructed abode of the second pig (Irwin, if you feel you must know) – this house constructed of sticks. No stones. This was good news for the old wolf, which was suffering from diverticulitis, and needed more fibre in his diet. He knocked on the little pig’s door and howled loudly: “Hey pig – can I borrow some eggs? I’m makin’ ham ‘an eggs, I am!”

The little pig replied: “Not by the hair of my chinny-chin chin, Dumb-head.” Which frankly did little for his cause. The old wolf just huffed, puffed on his cherry-flavoured cigarillo, and lit the brittle house of sticks on fire. Piggy #2 was soon a side of baked ham.

The last remaining little piggy opted to take extreme measures to protect himself. He built a house of brick, discussed insurance products with a friendly green Gecko, discreetly purchased an unregistered handgun from a rough-and-tumble weasel with one eye…and whenever he did have to leave the safety of his fortified compound, drove a Toyota.

Kids, if your parents hide a key under the doormat at the front door, you may want to get back to Clifford, The Big Red Dog or see what magical adventure Dora The Explorer is about to embark upon today. Truly, a security system is only as good as its weakest link, and if there is a moral in this tale anywhere, it may be that one should exercise some originality when it comes to hiding a spare key outside their home.

Dan St. Yves 2005For the wolf, it was a very good week.

Humour columnist and author Dan St. Yves was licensed with Royal LePage Kelowna for 11 years. Check out his website at www.nonsenseandstuff.com, or contact him at [email protected].

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