One time, right before Christmas about 5 years ago, my wife decided we needed a pot bellied pig. To be fair, I always wanted one, but the work just didn't seem worth it. Luckily, everyone decided that the pig idea was taking things a little too far.
You know how is it: everybody loves pets until came that moment to grab their shit from the floor.... And all family members are always let you "to take care". šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚
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When it comes right down to it, I am the primary shit scooper, but my wife certainly holds up her end of the bargain, especially considering everything else she does. In fact, we're down to one cat, and she always takes care of the litter box. My daughter is now an adult and definitely helps out more too. It's just that I get up the earliest, so I deal with the morning routine.
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The Criminal podcast did an episode all about animals committing crimes (well, mischief), and the stuff at the beginning about how smart pigs are was enough to convince me to never think about one as a pet.
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These conversations always bring me back to Pulp Fiction:
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