Live and Let Live

It was Sparrow that first told Wolf about the pigs. Most days, Wolf could count on Sparrow waiting for him after he woke from one of his snoozes. She always had something to say, usually some inane story about infighting between chickadees, or a rundown of the different tree branches she had explored that afternoon. 

Occasionally, she’d help Wolf out with a deer sighting. Deer were of no consequence to Sparrow. She thought deer were worthless - running around, to and fro, chewing and pooping. No good for conversation, because they were dumber than the squirrels, if you could believe it. Of course, as prey herself, Sparrow didn’t love to see a deer go down, but if she could steer Wolf to one of the more annoying members of the woods, no reason not to. 

So Wolf and Sparrow kept up their uneasy alliance, which had become easier and easier over time. She’d give him some breaking dawn intel on his next meal, and he’d listen to her chitter away. It wasn’t like he could climb a tree and snap her quiet, even if he wanted to. So he accepted the gossip, the incredibly detailed descriptions of bark and the recounting of the bugs regurgitated to her children. It helped pass the time. 

Tonight, though, as he woke for his stalk through the twilight, there was capital “N” news from Sparrow. They had new neighbors. 

They had moved in just over the border from the forest, in the meadow. Sparrow wasn’t as concerned about the forest borders, because she could come and go as she pleased. Wolf would stick to where he could easily hide. She saw the pigs were working on something, so she had flown right over to the new arrivals and asked what their deal was. Sparrows, in general, are bold like that. Wolf would have never gone right up and asked an unknown animal a question, not in a million years. 

The pigs didn’t give Sparrow much in response to her questions, which was a big mistake, Wolf knew. The only thing worse than ignoring Sparrow’s questions was giving her very little information. That would only lead to more questions. 

Sparrow told Wolf what she knew: They were three pigs; they had moved into the meadow; and they were intent on making themselves homes. Why they needed homes, Sparrow had no idea. She had asked, and they told her to scram. Sparrow thought this was very rude, and Wolf agreed. 

“Want to go see?” Sparrow asked. Wolf said that he did. 

And that was Wolf’s big mistake - getting involved with these pigs at all.

But not much happened in the forest, and earlier that day Wolf had caught a particularly dumb, but also particularly fat deer and was plenty full. He didn’t need to go stalking this twilight. He had nothing else to do, which is usually when trouble starts. 

Wolf stalked his way over to the meadow, trying to stay hidden and not upset the other animals, which was foolish, because Sparrow talked the entire time about the pigs and their homes and what they were doing here and how much mud they needed, and on and on. The ground animals heard them coming and scurried away, afraid of Wolf, and the birds flew away because they did not want to get caught up in whatever Sparrow was going on about. 

At the border, Wolf hung back, making sure the new neighbors couldn’t see him. He knew most animals on the ground were frightened of him, which, fair enough. He tried to keep his distance - “live and let live” was his motto as the main predator in this part of the forest. He took what he needed and nothing more. 

The other animals knew this about Wolf and respected him for it. They wouldn't get close, sure, they weren’t stupid, but they also knew he wouldn’t come after them unless he needed to. When he did eat, well, everyone understood the role of the predator and the role of the prey. That he mostly stuck to deer, with Sparrow’s encouragement, all the better. No animal would shed a tear for one less dumb deer in the woods. 

Peeking through the shrubs at the border of the forest and the meadow, Wolf saw that the pigs were indeed building homes. He found this quite strange, but he was not as worldly as Sparrow so he didn’t want to judge something he did not understand. 

“Do pigs usually build homes?” Wolf asked Sparrow. She had stayed hidden this time, to play along with Wolf. 

“I don’t think so. Not that I’ve seen.”

They both watched the pigs work. They had already finished one dwelling - it looked like a big pile of straw, with a tunnel carved into the bottom that must have been an entrance. Two of the pigs were now working with some sticks, piling them on top of each other, crisscross, slowly connecting the circumference of a circular dwelling. The third pig was lugging bricks around, creating a foundation for yet another home. All of the pigs seemed hot and sweaty. Wolf could smell them from the woods. He did not like it. 

“Those are some massive pigs!” Wolf whispered to Sparrow. They were bigger than any ground animal he’d seen, beside deer. Sparrow just twittered a laugh in response. 

“Oh Wolf, you need to get out more. Those are the littest pigs I’ve ever seen. I wonder if that’s why they’re here. Maybe they got kicked off the farm because they were too small and useless. That kind of rejection from their family might have created a pathological drive to build another type home of their own making, one that won’t reject them, and building these houses gives them a sense of control they never had when they were with their litter.”

That seemed about as good an explanation as any for Wolf. 

The next day, Sparrow woke Wolf up again at dusk. She was sitting right on his snout, so he knew it was serious. 

“Wolf, these pigs are trouble. They’ve got to go.”

Wolf blinked his eye and suppressed a sneeze, brought on by the tickle of Sparrow’s feathers. 

“What do you mean?”

Sparrow started to fly in anxious circles, looping here and there. “They kept Owl up all day with their snorting and shuffling. They made a giant mud pit right in the middle of the meadow, and displaced hundreds of bugs, a dozen mice and a few snakes into the forest. Owl asked them to quiet down and they just snorted in her face. Fox went over to see what could be done about the mud pit - he can’t compete for mice with those snakes - and as soon as they saw him they squealed and started to kick mud into his face.”

She landed on the ground and took a deep breath. “Here’s the worst thing, Wolf. They stink. You thought it was bad yesterday - you can’t believe it today. Everyone is pushing further and further into the forest. All that real estate along the border is unusable. No one can live in that stink all day, except those pigs. It’s getting way too crowded here.”

Well, that’s no good, Wolf thought, as Sparrow continued the pig’s litany of crimes. Rude animals, building their own homes, and a mud pit too? That’s just too much. Live and let live only works if everyone follows along.

Wolf interrupted Sparrow. “Want me to try and talk to them?” he asked. 

Sparrow shut herself up and landed on a branch next to Wolf, nodding solemnly. They went back to the meadows together, and this time, all the animals stood at attention when they passed, hoping for the best. 

When they got to the border, they saw all three houses. There was the straw one, and the stick one had been completed, resembling a kind of stick dome, with a looping, circular wall and a flat top made out of large branches. It had an opening for a door just as the straw one. 

The brick one was a simple box, with four walls and looked very sturdy. The brick roof was also made out of large branches, clearly collected from the forest. Wolf noticed one of Owl’s favorite branches had been built into the roof - no wonder she was angry. The brick house also had an opening for a door, but it had a rock rolled in front of it, closing off the brick structure from the outside.

 Wolf started to approach the straw house with a smile, but Sparrow saw him exposing his teeth and immediately told him to clamp those shut. If he was going to get through to these pigs, he needed to be as non-threatening as possible. He first went to the straw house - it was more of a pile, really - and called out:

“Little pigs! Are you home? We haven’t met yet, but I wanted to welcome you to the area.”

He heard a little snicker from inside, and then a small snout poked out from the entranceway of the straw pile. The rest of the pig’s head slowly appeared, and when the pig saw who was outside, it immediately let out a high pitched squeal - Wolf instinctively covered his ears with his paws - jumped up, and ran straight through the wall of straw and into the house made of sticks. The entire straw pile collapsed. 

Wolf realized what had happened and tried to explain. 

“No no no, you misunderstand. I just want to talk. The other animals have been a little concerned about you moving in - the mud pit you’ve made is quite lovely, I am sure, but it actually has caused a little bit of an issue around here. Many animals live in this meadow, you see, and with all that mud they don’t have their homes any more.”

Wolf paused and heard some squeals coming from inside the stick house. Then, Wolf got hit in the face with some mud. Then, another clump of mud flew out from inside the stick house and hit him in the shoulder. That’s when he knew it was time to leave. 

He wasn’t up to hunting that night, even though Sparrow told him she’d fly ahead and scout for him. Instead he went to sleep early, but when he woke just before dawn, Sparrow was back sitting on his snout. 

“Wolf, last night, after you left, the pigs took over the whole meadow. It’s all mud now. It goes right up to the border. And they mixed all their straw into it. You can’t imagine the stink.”

Wolf actually could. His sense of smell was much stronger than Sparrow’s, and the smell of the pigs wafted into his nose as Sparrow spoke. 

“You’ve got to do something.”

Wolf shook his head and Sparrow flew off, onto a nearby branch. 

“Why me? Why do I have to be the bad guy?”

“Oh Wolf, stop complaining. Someone's gotta do it. What do you think, they’ll listen to me? You think I can fly in there, peck at that stupid stick house of theirs, and they’ll put their curly tails between their legs and run home? You want me to get all the finches and the robins and the chickadees to swoop in and drive them off?”

Wolf thought that sounded pretty good, actually. “”That would probably work, don’t you think?”

Sparrow did a little loop in the air and dove for Wolf’s head, barely missing him. “Please, even if we do get them out of those houses, they’ll just be back. They aren’t scared of us. But they’re scared of you. You can get them to leave.”

Wolf shook his head and started to walk off.

Sparrow had one last card to play: “Wolf! What happened to live and let live? Are you going to let them just take over? Do whatever they want?” 

That got Wolf to stop. He sighed, and turned around. 

“Ok, Sparrow, I’ll go talk to them. I’ll get them to leave.”

Wolf walked through the forest to the pigs, this time not even bothering to hide himself. All the animals knew his purpose. When he passed, they followed behind him. By the time he had reached the border, he had a whole parade of support.  

---

Poor Wolf, thought Sparrow, as she flew around later that day in search of bugs or worms to bring back to the nest. She felt bad for pushing him to go back to the pigs, but how was she supposed to know those pigs would fight as dirty as they smelled? At the first sight of Wolf, the pigs squealed even louder this time and once again ran straight through the walls of sticks, causing their second home to collapse. (Why did they build those entrances if they weren’t going to use them?) They holed up in that brick house, and she thought Wolf would give up and come back. But not their Wolf - he persisted. 

All the animals watched as he climbed up the roof, apparently seeing no other option. Once he jumped in, Sparrow knew he wasn't coming back. For a moment, as Wolf looked down into that hole in the roof, the smoke billowing up over his face, Sparrow thought about warning him. He had never seen fire before. But, then he looked over at the animals watching, gave that big toothy smile of his to let them know he’d take care of things, and went down to try and talk sense into the pigs.

She would miss Wolf around the forest. The deer were going to get out of control now, she thought. Those things would take over the place within a few seasons.

Sparrow saw a worm poking its little head above the ground and swooped in and caught it before it knew what was coming. She swallowed and decided she had enough stored up in her belly to head home. 

Wolf was a good friend, and a good predator to have around, but he was totally wrong about that whole “live and let live” stuff. Sparrow never pressed him on it, because she would never be so bold. But it never seemed to make sense to her. She was much more about the survival of the fittest, eat or be eaten, all that. She had first approached Wolf to try and get some deer out of her territory who kept eating leaves off her tree, and she was surprised at how amenable to her suggestions he was. So agreeable and trusting, that Wolf. Once he took care of those deer, well, she figured he would be a good animal to keep around.   

And she was right - those pigs took care of him, but he also took care of the pigs. With their homes destroyed, they got the picture and moved someplace else. Sparrow didn’t care where, as long as it was far from her.