: The middle of a big mud field was alive with laughing, squealing pigs splashing and rolling merrily. Pigs splashed through the puddles, the smallest piglet darting in and out, and chasing after a butterfly that would dart out and within reach just out of reach — the larger pigs nudging and waggling with mock wrestling matches. As they frolicked to the rich, wet mud clung to their pink hides making a patchwork earthy tones. The sound emanating from under the open sky was pure porcine happiness, the sounds of joyful oinks and snorts, a symphony of the air.

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