By The Way

By The Way

By Emory Jones

Iguess I always knew it had to happen. Because, to be honest, I’d seen the signs coming since the first time my pet pig, Cunningham, saw his name in the newspaper.

His head got a little bigger every time that happened. And then, when my book about him and his friends came out with his picture on the cover, well, that little ole pig’s head swelled up like…well, like a big ole pig’s head.

It wasn’t long until he started wearing imitation gold chains and even had a ring put in his nose. Then he began staying out at night, staggering home late, often smelling like a pigsty. I tried to talk to him, but he can be so pig-headed.

Once he started getting letters from the Amalgamated Swine Talent Agency in Hollywood, I knew it was just a matter of time.

So, I wasn’t surprised a few weeks ago when I awoke to find his bed made, his little artist beret missing, and all the canned corn in the pantry gone.

My cousin Wayne saw him hitchhiking over on Highway 985, but by the time Wayne could circle back, Cunningham had flagged down a big rig hauling livestock to the West Coast.

I don’t know what kind of person would pick up a pet pig wearing a beret with a gold necklace chain, a nose ring, and smelling like a pigsty, but apparently, they’re out there.

I know he made it to Hollywood because last week he sent me an eight-by-ten glossy of himself. I have to say he looked good. Cunningham even signed it and had his agent write a little note that read, “We had a great run, but let’s face it, you were holding me back. I hope you understand—a pig has to fly.”

I’ve heard through the grapevine that Cunningham has a parttime job rooting out weeds on Miss Piggy’s estate, but I can’t confirm that. I also heard he’s on a waiting list for the Pig N Whistle drive-through on Hollywood and Vine, which would be good since that’s where lots of pigs get their start out there. I know that’s where Arnold from Green Acres was discovered.

I guess Cunningham has had some success landing roles. Last night, I caught a glimpse of him in the new documentary, A Pig’s Story.” He was “Dead Pig Number Three.”

It was a small role, but he played it well, and I have no doubt that he’ll be “Dead Pig Number One” in no time. Say what you want about him, but the pig’s got talent.

I wish Cunningham all the best in Tinsel Town. After all, we’ve had some good times together ever since I picked him up hitchhiking on 285. I’ll never forget our trips to the horse races, Rock City, and to his art lessons in Helen.

I noticed Cunningham left his pet rock, Hudson, behind, too. So, I guess that little rock is my responsibility now. Lord knows, my wife would just toss him away. We both cope with Cunningham’s departure in different ways. I sigh a lot, but she sings. In fact, she’s been singing ever since she found out the pig left, bless her heart.

Anyway, keep an eye out for Cunningham on the big screen this summer and fall. I hear they’re doing a remake of Babe. He’d be perfect for playing a “heavy” in that!

I will miss him, but he did leave me an autograph copy of “Cunningham and Other Pigs I have Known” on my nightstand. At least we have those to remember him by.

Emory Jones started writing columns about his so-called pet pig, Cunningham, after reading a blotter item in the White County News a few years back. Since then, he’s written numerous accounts of Cunningham’s adventures. Although Cunningham is retiring to Hollywood, Emory will continue writing monthly pieces for this magazine.

Farewell, Cunningham. We will miss you.

Emory Jones grew up in Northeast Georgia’s White County. After a stint in the Air Force, he joined Gold Kist as publications manager. He was the Southeastern editor for Farm Journal Magazine and executive vice president at Freebarin & Company, an Atlanta-based advertising agency. He has written seven books. Emory is known for his humor, love of history and all things Southern. He and his wife, Judy, live on Yonah Mountain near Cleveland, Georgia.