The Parable of the Pig. A good friend of mine, I�

The Parable of the Pig.
A good friend of mine, I’ll call Kevino is an expatriated American living on a small island off the coast of Nicaragua. Due to a disagreement the United States Internal Revenue Service he can only visit the U.S. after booking passage on a banana boat or some other low profile mode of transportation. His visits are never announced on Facebook and most of the time I don’t know he was here until after he is back on his island.
When on the little island Kevino is a cross between a one man Peace Corp and a throwback Mother Earth News hippy. He has four acres, on which he raises an amazing variety of vegetables and fruits. After his long days in the garden he enjoys rum, hand-rolled cigars, tropical sunsets, and for one six month period he owned a pig, which he named Pig. Kevino also had a dog to keep the local garden thieves at bay whom Kevino had appropriately named Dog.
Now this pig enjoyed his days being Kevino’s pig . He always had a big breakfast which consisted of fruits and veggies from the garden that Kevino brought him, after the morning sun burned off the dull haze of a mild hangover. After breakfast it was a nice mud bath, which kept those pesky flies and annoying mosquitos away. Then when the sun was between the two horizons, he would bask in the warm tropical sun. Pig life was good.
“Why would anyone want to be anything besides Kevino’s pig?” Pig often wondered.
“Dog is up all night chasing the number one garden thief on the island, Rockman away, while I try to sleep through his barking and dream of tomorrow’s meals and thick mud” Pink oinked. “Dog did not gain more than Pig for his duties. Guarding the garden didn’t pay more than basking in the sun so why bother”. “Stupid Dog” Pig thought to himself.
Not surprisingly, the lazy days in the sun and the ever present trough of veggies caused Pig to gain considerable weight. Pig was stirred from a peaceful sleep one day by the sound of humans approaching. Through his little pig eyes he saw Kevino and a few of his neighbors walking toward him. Kevino was carrying a pistol in one hand and a beer in the other. From the corner of his four day old beard was the ever present cigar. He looked like a short Ernest Hemmingway.
The neighbors were talking excitedly pointing at the pig. Kevino walked up to Pig and shot him point blank between those beady pig eyes. A short time later Pig was the main attraction at an all day cookout. One of the party goers mentioned to Kevino and his thoughts about Pig.
As usual Kevino’s reply was short and simple; “He had to know there are no free rides.”