Curly, Trott & Snout

The Choice Between Getting a Life and Re-hab

Once upon a time, there were three brothers: Curly, Trott, and Snout. They were known about town as The Piggawig Boys.

Although they were quite cute as piglets, with their tiny pink trotters and shiny pink snouts, they grew up to be boisterous and troublesome.

By the time they reached the end of their teens, Daddy Piggawig knew that one day soon he would lose his bacon with them. He was fresh out of oinks.

So he sat them down and, in no uncertain terms, demanded that they go out and make their own way in the world. To make it easier, he gave each of his boys a little of the nest-egg he had saved.

Curly, the oldest Piggawig of the litter, was thrilled to find an advertisement for a career in Accountancy. Good at sums, he reckoned it was a licence to print money, so he applied.

Over the next couple of years, he learned myriad ways to screw the most out of a job while putting in the least effort. Somehow, he passed the final exam and joined a local Accountancy Firm.

Even though he didn’t actually produce anything, he was paid £30,000 a year and considered himself very important indeed. His student loan was £55,000, but he tried not to think about that.

Snout, the middle Piggawig brother, was not to be outdone and immediately enrolled in the local Law School where he enjoyed drinking games and wearing stupidly long scarves.

After a few years, he qualified and secured a job with a local Firm of Solicitors, where he became an expert in the “More is Less” principle. No pointless letter went unwritten, nor aimless telephone call unlogged, in his quest to preserve the tradition of charging exorbitant fees for doing very little actual work.

Even though he produced nothing, he was paid £30,000 a year and considered himself very important indeed. His student loan was £55,000, but he tried not to think about that.

Trott, the youngest of the three, chose an entirely different path. Curious and craving adventure, he took what little money his dear old Dad had given him and bought tickets to travel the world.

He worked in bars, olive groves, and factories; conversed with monks in Tibet; and herded goats in the Congo. Everyone he met in those far-away lands was happy to spend time with him, teaching the eager young Piggawig all about their wonderful culture.

He owned little more than the clothes he stood up in and a fiddle, and what money he made he spent entertaining the folks he lived amongst. Just spending time.

When he was hungry, he gathered food from the sea and hedgerows. When he was tired, he slept under a blanket of stars. To have so little yet live so well, he felt very privileged indeed! It goes without saying that he also mixed liberally with the ladies!

It’s a rule of nature that all good things must come to pass, and the time came for him to return home, to settle down and maybe have a piglet family of his own. So, he set off with joy in his heart, and his head crammed with stories. He couldn’t wait to tell his brothers and his Dad all about the adventures he’d had.

But when he ran through the door of his family home, no one was there to welcome him. He discovered that his father had been bustled into a Rest Home for embarrassing pigs. Apparently, his brothers were far too busy being important to look after their dear old Dad.

Trott was disappointed but not downhearted.

Straightaway, he went to see his Father, who said he was quite comfortable in the Rest Home, but would like his boys to visit more often. More than once a year, at least. Daddy Piggawig was happy that his youngest son was home safe and sound and marvelled at his tales. As he left, Trott promised to drop by soon, when he would hopefully have news that he’d found a place to live and a proper job.

Minutes later, at the Technical College he asked the nice young lady at reception about apprentice plumbing courses. Being good with his trotters and no stranger to hard work, a plumber would be just the job for him.

And so it was: within a year or so, much to the amusement of his “professional” brothers, he had a qualification and embarked on his trade with gusto.

Cheerful and courteous, he charmed every customer he worked for, and before long, he was run off his trotters with orders for everything from fixing boilers to re-plumbing entire houses.

Soon, he was earning £30,000 a year and more. He had no student debts and nothing much to worry about.

Despite being busy, he always found time to visit his dear old Dad at the Rest Home and his brothers at the Rehab Clinic. But the best part of the day was when he stepped through his own front door to lavish time on his loving partner, who still works at Reception at the local Technical College, and their five gorgeous piglettes.

And the moral of the story?

It’s obvious, isn’t it?