Finn stopped by a muddy fenced-in area on the side of the barn that housed the largest pig I’d ever seen and what looked to be over a dozen wriggling piglets, some pink, but also some spotted gray like the mother. They didn’t bear a lot of resemblance to the pigs in the picture books Mom had delighted in reading to me as a child. In contrast to the mother, who was almost larger than my first Manhattan apartment, each piglet was smaller than a loaf of bread.
