On a quiet farm, a pig was stretched out in a muddy puddle, living what looked like the perfect life.
Nearby, a donkey was hard at work hauling supplies across the field.
The pig watched him for a while and finally shook his head.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.”
The donkey kept walking.
“Do what?”
“Live like that!” the pig replied.
“You’re up before sunrise, pulling carts, hauling heavy loads, grinding grain, and dragging plows through the dirt all day long.”
The donkey shrugged.
“And?”
“And when the day is over, they reward you with a pile of dry grass!”
The pig grinned proudly.
“Look at me. I eat whenever I’m hungry, sleep whenever I’m tired, roll around in the mud, and nobody expects a thing from me.”
He stretched lazily and sighed.
“Life is wonderful. I’m certainly glad I’m not in your hooves.”
The donkey stopped, looked at the pig for a moment, and nodded.
“Yeah…”
The pig smiled, expecting agreement.
The donkey continued:
“The pig who lived here last year said exactly the same thing.”
The pig laughed.
“Really? What happened to him?”
The donkey looked toward the farmhouse.
“Christmas.”
Suddenly, the mud didn’t feel nearly as relaxing.
