Once upon a time, the sun rose over the woods. There was nothing unusual about this, but the events the sun was to witness on this day were most certainly unusual. Sunlight streaming in through the window woke Friend Pig. He was sorry to let go of his pleasant dreams, but ready to welcome the new day.
The early morning was Friend Pig's favorite time of day. Since he had no children, and his wife was usually still "finishing up paperwork" from the night before, he had the silent house all to himself. This allowed him to peacefully sip his coffee, gather his thoughts, and plan the hours ahead of him. In reality, there was no need to plan anything; Friend Pig always spent the bulk of the day romping through the woods.
To some, the woods may seem like a pretty but uneventful place; but to Friend Pig, they were wonderland. In every nook and cranny lay a free sampling of dead rodents or some delicious fungus. Friend Pig was not the sole inhabitant of these woods; he had his share of neighbors: other Pigs, the Sparrows, and of course Beowulf. But because the inhabitants of the large woods were so spread apart, they only came into contact with each other on occasion. For the most part, Friend Pig roamed freely - as if he were the only oinker in the world.
On this particular morning Friend Pig headed eastward, slightly downhill from his home towards the denser and damper forest. A swift brook ran through the bottom of the hill. In the rainy season when the ground got muddy, Friend Pig would splash around in the brook until he had washed himself clean. Having just eaten, he wasn't especially hungry. He was looking for whatever thrill popped up and feeling footloose and fancy-free.
As Friend Pig trotted along, something caught his eye. It was a field mouse scurrying through the underbrush. Letting out a joyful squeal, Friend Pig went chasing after it. He had to jump and swerve to keep up with the fast little rodent, but he never lost sight of him. Just when he thought he had him, the mouse darted into a hollow log on the ground. Without thinking, Friend Pig tried to follow him in. Unfortunately, our porky protagonist was a bit too large to squeeze through the log, and he found himself stuck. His hind legs kicked the dirt frantically as he attempted to squirm his way out, but it was to no avail.
At this very moment, Friend Swallow happened to be passing by. He saw Friend Pig's fat bottom sticking out of the log, and flew down to see what was the matter.
"Friend Pig," he asked. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm stuck in this log," grunted Friend Pig, "and I don't know what to do."
"Don't worry, I'll go find some help," and Friend Swallow flew away.
Friend Swallow decided he should get Bridge Pig, since he was easy to find. Bridge Pig was always sitting on the bridge over the brook. Some said that he came to the woods hoping to fill in the brook and unite the land on either side, but it seemed that he mostly just sat on the bridge - affirming its existence but not doing anything.
Bridge Pig saw Friend Sparrow and greeted him with a friendly grunt.
"Bridge Pig, you must help me," began Friend Swallow. "Friend Pig is stuck inside a hollow log and can't get himself out."
Bridge Pig thought for a moment. "It sounds like there's a problem," he said.
"Yes," said the impatient Swallow, "can you help me with it?"
"Mmmhmm," said Bridge Pig. There was a moment of silence. "So there's a problem, then," he concluded.
"Right," said Friend Swallow. "I want you to help me get Friend Pig out of the log."
Another moment of silence followed. Friend Swallow stared into Bridge Pig's beady eyes and blinked twice. Bridge Pig stared back at him and blinked once.
"Mmmhmm," said Bridge Pig.
This time Friend Swallow didn't wait for another response. He flew off in search of more immediate help. He followed the brook downstream until he came to the home of Walrus Pig. Almost as soon as he had knocked, Walrus Pig threw open the door, his pearly white tusks gleaming in the sunlight.
"What can I do for ya?" asked Walrus Pig in his husky deep voice.
"Well, Friend Pig is stuck inside of this log in the deep woods. He needs some help getting himself out," Friend Swallow explained.
"Hyuh hyuh hyuh, that's a tough one," chuckled Walrus Pig. "I think I might have just the solution. Come on in."
Walrus Pig led Friend Swallow to his open refrigerator. It was stocked full of butter.
"We'll just have to grease ‘im up a little, and he'll be outta there in no time," he said with a grin.
The two of them loaded up Walrus Pig's wheelbarrow with butter and headed down the path towards the deep woods, where Friend Pig was starting to wish he'd just stayed at home and taken a buttermilk bath.
When Friend Swallow and Walrus Pig arrived at the log, Friend Pig was desperately oinking and kicking, his corkscrew-tail drooping. The log shook slightly, but nothing budged.
"Friend Pig, hold still for a second," said Walrus Pig as he unwrapped the first couple packets of butter. "We're gonna get ya so greased you'll slide all the way back home."
And with that, Friend Swallow and Walrus Pig went to work. They greased Friend Pig up and down, concentrating on the exposed areas just sticking out from the log. Several packets later, Friend Pig was so buttery that even Friend Swallow's beak began to water.
Walrus Pig grabbed hold of Friend Pig's hind legs and pulled. Friend Pig squealed, but didn't move.
"Shucks, you're a tough one." Walrus Pig wiped his brow and tried again. This time he put his back into it and gave a count off: "One, two, three!"
Friend Pig went shooting out of the log tail first. It looked just a cork popping out of a champagne bottle.
"Thank God I can move again," Friend Pig squealed with delight. "I owe you both one."
"Don't mention it," said Walrus Pig with a hearty chuckle. "I guess we all learned a good lesson - sometimes the best way to help a friend is with butter."
The trio said their goodbyes and went their separate ways: Friend Swallow to his nest, Walrus Pig to his fridge now empty of butter, and Friend Pig to go home and take a buttermilk bath.