By the Way

Just Thinking By the Way Flying Pig Causes Commotion Over Clayton

By Emory Jones

If you keep up with the news, you’ve undoubtedly heard about last week’s mysterious sighting of a pig flying over downtown Clayton.

It caused quite a commotion, really.

I feel I must clarify that flying pig matter since the whole affair was inadvertently my fault. First, my pet pig, Cunningham, wasn’t actually flying—he was simply parachuting. Here’s the backstory: I’d been bragging about having jumped out of an airplane once, back in my younger days. Twice, actually, but the second time wasn’t on purpose. It wouldn’t have happened at all if my check for the first jump hadn’t bounced.

Anyway, I suppose all that skydiving talk caused Cunningham to want to emulate me in that regard. So, I wasn’t surprised when he trotted up to my hammock carrying a little skydiving brochure.

Reading the document out loud to him only increased Cunningham’s desire to jump out of a perfectly fine airplane.

“Are you sure?” I asked, thinking he might not understand the gravity of skydiving.

But Cunningham grunted enthusiastically.

I was pleasantly surprised that my wife, Judy, was all for seeing Cunningham jump out of an airplane. In fact, she even offered to pay for the entire enterprise. I think that woman likes Cunningham a lot more than she lets on.

When the folks at the airport didn’t have the right-size parachute for a pig, Judy pointed out that skydiving without a parachute is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She’s always making little jokes like that about my pig.

Determined not to let the pig down, within a week, Judy found a used pig parachute on eBay. The brand name was Maxwell House, and it came with the company’s guarantee of “Good to the Last Drop,” embroidered across the canopy.

After weeks of rigorous training by jumping off the back porch steps, the big day finally came. The three of us piled in the truck and drove to the airport. I don’t know who was more excited, Cunningham or me.

Judy must have called ahead because the man flying the plane was already sitting on the tarmac with the door off and the motor running. I strapped on Cunningham’s little parachute, and off we took. All was going well until the pilot indicated it was time to prepare the pig. There was no problem with that except that Cunningham now seemed a tad reluctant. I suspect it was all that wind noise.

“I THINK HE’S CHANGED HIS MIND,” I shouted to Judy.

“NO, HE HASN’T,” Judy shouted, moving behind the pig. “HE JUST NEEDS A LITTLE ENCOURAGEMENT! HERE. HELP ME ENCOURAGE HIM!”

Judy loves that pig so much that she couldn’t stand seeing him fail in this new undertaking. Cunningham appreciated her efforts because he started squealing with excitement. Looking back on it, I think he was yelling “Geronimo!” in pig talk. Then he backed up as far as possible to get a good jump at the door. It took both of Judy’s legs to make it happen, but finally, the swine flew out the door and into skydiving history. Thankfully, I pulled his little ripcord at the last minute. As luck would have it, my cousin, Wayne, was driving by when Cunningham landed over by the edge of Tallulah Falls. Wayne had the pig home in time for supper. We’re all proud of Cunningham, especially Judy. In fact, when she saw Wayne driving up with him, she got all misty-eyed. Bless her heart.

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.