CLARA

Chapter 1 A Little Pink Pig

Once upon a time there was a little pink pig named Clara. Clara was a beautiful little pig, as pigs go, just as pretty a pink as a soft pink rose,
with bright blue eyes and heart shaped snout of a very pink nose.

Clara lived on a farm in a nice piggy pen out behind the big red barn.
She had a nice little home with a tin roof to keep her dry when it rained
and a pile of sweet golden straw for a bed.

Clara was a very happy little pig, at least most of the time but sometimes Clara got bored with just poking around her little piggy pen all day with nothing to do but eat and sleep and eat again.  Sometimes Clara just wasn't very hungry and she really wasn't tired either. She was just plain bored.

Life just wasn't very exciting being a little pink pig in a pen. Clara didn't like never being able to go anywhere or do anything fun or interesting. She had never ever seen anything beyond the view of the barnyard from her piggy pen. She had never been anywhere.

She had heard about all the wonderful adventures of Cat and Dog and Pony and even the stories told by Stanley the skunk and Barry the Bandit, the raccoon that sometimes raided the hen house to steal eggs but Clara had never had even one adventure of her own. Clara wanted to be like the other animals around the farm. She wanted to have a life of adventure too.

Sometimes Clara didn't like being a little pink pig at all. She wished she could be a dog or a cat or a pony like Peter, or be able to crow like Cornelius, the rooster who woke her up every morning at the crack of dawn. Clara wished she could be anything but a pig.  A pig’s life was no fun at all. She never had an adventure.  She never did anything wonderful.  All she ever did besides eat and sleep was listen to the other animal’s tales and tell them how wonderful it was or what a great job they had done.

Why couldn't she be like the cats on the farm? They could roam and wander wherever they chose and have all kinds of marvelous adventures. Sometimes the cats stopped by Clara's piggy pen and they would tell her all about their adventures and the wonderful day they were having.

They would tell her about the meadow and the beautiful flowers that grow there and playing tag with the butterflies or hide and seek with the field mice. If only she could be a cat, thought Clara, life wouldn't be so boring.

Clara had never ever seen the meadow or the pasture or the pond. She had never been to the edge of the woods behind the farm. She had never been anywhere. Clara had heard about these wonderful places from the other animals but she had never, not even once, been outside her little piggy pen home.

At night she dreamed about the adventures she could have. She dreamed of being just like Pumpkin the Cat and playing hide and seek with mice in the meadow. She dreamed of being Della the duck and all the fun it must be down by the pond. She imagined herself being just like Henry the Hound who got to go everywhere and had marvelous adventures all day long.

Oh, Clara thought, if I could just be anything except a pig I would be the happiest little pig in the whole wide world; but pigs are just pigs and pigs don’t go anywhere or have adventures, or do they?

Clara settled down on her bed of straw and dreamed of being the first adventure seeking pig in the whole wide world.