Whatever Happened to the Three Little Pigs?

The three little pigs were sitting around their fireplace in their nice brick home they had built during the bad time with the big, bad wolf and congratulating themselves on how clever the third little pig was to think of using bricks to build such a fine home. It was cold and miserable outside, but if you were outside looking through the window you would think it was a beautiful and cozy postcard.

The first little pig said, “It’s so wonderful to have this big, strong house. We’ll be safe here all of our lives!”

The second little pig said, “Yes we will! Nothing can harm us ever again. We are as safe as safe can be!”

The third little pig said, “Well, maybe we’re safe from the wolf, but that doesn’t really mean we’re safe from everything.”

“Oh, pooh!” Said the first little pig.

“Winnie isn’t here,” said the second little pig.

“I think he means he doesn’t believe me” explained the third little pig.

“Oh,” said the second little pig.

“What can harm us?” asked the first little pig. “I mean, we can’t burn down ‘cause bricks don’t burn. The wolf can’t get in. The house is built like a rock, big and strong and indestructible.”

“There are all kinds of harm,” said the third little pig.

“Your such a pessi… pessi… pessi…” stammered the second little pig.

“PESSIMIST!” shouted the first little pig.

“That too!” said the second little pig. “What in the world could go wrong?”

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door . The timing rather stunned them so they just sat there staring apprehensively at the door.

The knocking grew louder and more persistent.

At last the third little pig stood up and walked to the door.

“Don’t open it!” shouted the first and second little pigs.

“I won’t know who it is unless I open it,” said the third little pig, who wasn’t really a pessimist but was indeed a realist. He opened the door.

Towering in the doorway and in fact lowering his head so he wouldn’t bump it, stood a very intimidating brown bear, but the little pigs weren't scared now because they knew it was Smoky the bear and he didn’t go around hurting people. He didn’t even hurt little pigs! He was in charge of the forest and was the closest thing the forest animals had to a government.

“Oh, it’s you,” said the third little pig. “C’mon in. Just keep your head down.”

“No”, said Smoky. “This isn’t a social call. I came to collect.”

“Collect what?” asked the third little pig.

“Collect the loan I gave you that you were able to buy the bricks with to build this fine home” said Smoky.

“Hunh?” The third little pig didn’t know what Smoky was talking about.

“Your brothers,” said the second little pig, "asked us to help them get the money for the bricks you built this house with. Every bear in the forest collected honey for days and packed it in barrels which your brothers sold to get money for the bricks. Where did you think they came from? They didn’t just fall out of the sky, you know!” Smoky was getting angry.

“Uh,” said the third little pig. He turned and looked toward his brothers, but they were no longer sitting comfortably by the fireside. They had tiptoed out of the room while his back was turned.

“Uh,” repeated the third little pig. “I didn’t know anything about that. They told me you had given them money for the bricks!”

“Gave them money? Why would I have money? I’m a bear!”

“Dunno,” answered the third little pig. I guess I didn’t give it much thought. I was rather in a hurry, you know.”

“Well, that’s not my problem, is it? Your brothers were given plenty of time to pay us bears back for the work we did to get you the bricks. I've been far too patient already. I have some lazy, deadbeat relatives that need a place to live, and if you can’t pay me back, you will just have to move out and let them move in.”

“But, but, but they didn’t do anything to deserve to live here,” stammered the first little pig.

“Maybe not, but everyone needs a place to live,” answered the bear, “even lazy, deadbeat relatives. Besides, your lazy, deadbeat brothers have been living here, haven't they?”

“But what about the wolf? If we move out we’ll be eaten by the big, bad wolf!”

“There are worse things,” said the bear.

“Like what? What could be worse than getting eaten by a wolf?”

“Probably being eaten by a bunch of lazy, deadbeat bears,” answered Smoky. “You should go pack. Time’s up!”

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Note: This story may be continued someday... or maybe not. Whether it is or not depends on many things, including the economy and the housing market.

Although the story is mine, the idea for the title came from the sermon at my church today, January 25/09