Last week was the big district livestock show, and My Girl and My Boy were very excited about going. They picked five piggies to take, and those little porkers got a Spa Day! They were all washed, spiffed and shined up, loaded in the trailer and taken to school. Then they joined the group to be hauled to the show an hour away. By now those fellows had gone to enough shows that they were excited about the trip and were grunting and talking to each other on the way.
Then a bad thing happened. Mom got a phone call at work, and My Girl told her that the trailer of pigs only got about a half mile from the school when it caught on fire! Oh, Mom almost got sick when she heard the news! The group pulled over to the side of the road, and Mrs. School Principal acted quick and beat the the flames with her hoodie (which I sadly suspect is totally ruined now). My Girl grabbed a feed bucket and went to the ditch for water. Between the two of them and their quick thinking, they put the fire out and all turned out well. We didn't lose any pigs or kids, but alas, the trailer kinda melted.
Dad borrowed a friend's trailer and brought the pigs home. Boy, were they disappointed. That was the shortest trailer ride they'd ever been on, they missed the show, and they weren't ready to come back. We dragged the burnt trailer to town for repairs. The mechanic said that the electric brakes locked up, two of the wheels stopped turning, and the friction started the rubber burning. Rubber + Friction = Fire. I think I learned some physics from this. Anyway, the trailer was repaired and pronounced safe, but Mom doesn't trust it much now.
My Boy and My Girl go to so many shows with their pigs and goats, I always said that one day they would haul the wheels off that trailer. I guess they finally did!