I am perplexed. I love animals. Love reading about them. I loved John Grogan's Marley and Me. But, try as I might, I couldn't love The Good Good Pig.
Sy Montogomery is an accomplished writer. Yet, I found the writing in this book a drag. I had to pull myself to finish it. And make, no mistake, you would think that a book about a cute pig, albeit a huge pig, would make very interesting reading. Sadly, not for me.

Christopher Hogwood is our pig. Huge, weighing in at more than 700 pounds. He was the survivor - the runt of the litter who eventually charmed everyone. Sy is a vegetarian - she states in the beginning of the book that she has always felt closer to animals than humans. Her house is home not only to Christopher but also to Tess, an adopted dog, and chickens, and well, her husband, Howard too. There is a lot of feel-good messages in this book - Christopher is a Buddha master with a Zen for living - err, make that living for food - and his sheer happiness for leading a life of pleasure touching. Yet, I couldn't relate to this book. Probably because I haven't really seen a 700-pound pig in my life, the closest I have come to are tiny scrawny pigs that forage down the street where I live, and they don't remotely look made out for fame.
So...Christopher was a good soul - God rest his soul - perhaps had I met him I would have fallen in love with him. As of now, he barely forms a picture of words in a book that I will surely forget about if you ask me a year later.
Verdict: Unsatisfying.




