This potential swine flu pandemic is getting beyond the joke. Ordinarily I wouldn't care a tinker's cuss for it. I don't fit the profile of likely fatality: I'm (relatively) young, fit, and I'm not a large animal vet, slaughter man, or pig farmer.
I was nodding contentedly to myself the other day, having just revisited the above facts, when I remembered that the wife and I had popped to a farm shop last week. We did this primarily to buy happy eggs, but we ended up rubbing some agreeable looking pigs in a nearby field. They were a bit stand-offish but absolutely charming nonetheless.
We then shot home, and I helped prepare dinner before washing my hands. I did think of this at the time, but I thought the worst that might happen was a bout of "crackling finger" or some other suitably minor pig-borne condition. Shite.
What would Jesus do? Tell a confusing story and run off I dare say.
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