The joys of porcine life are professed in rhyme as Pig acts out each attribute: “I’m a pig, I’m a pig / and I don’t give a fig / if you call me a pig, / ’cause that’s what I am.” He’s not a clam, armadillo, lion, lamb, goose or moose, because acting like a pig is what it’s all about: oinking at the moon, wallowing in mud and grunting grunts all day. After the litany of protestations and affirmations, Pig crawls into bed with a toy pig and animal blanket. The phrase “as happy as pigs in clover” takes on sly meaning as the cartoonish illustrations subtlely depict each trait. Some visual puns may need explaining: the moon with a pig face; mud-wallowing in a Turkish bath; the Eiffel Tower in the background of the truffle-hunting spread. Porky, in both senses of the word. (Picture book. 4-7)
