The warthog
2005-08-15, 12:09 p.m.

When I was a child with aspirations of being the world's greatest veterinarian, someone gave me "The Book of Animals, from A to Z". They were unusual animals, too. It wasn't like E for Elephant or K for Kangaroo, but E for Echidna and K for Kiwi (back then I hadn't even heard of the fruit). So I'm looking through this book, marvelling at all the wonderful animals out there that I had never seen, when I come to W for Warthog. It was the ugliest thing I'd ever laid eyes on. I stared at it in awe, and I knew knew at once the impact this animal would have on my life. I showed my sister. She recoiled in horror and agreed it was the ugliest thing ever. And then I waited.

It didn't take long, of course. Probably only a couple of days, although I can't swear to that. But regardless, the time came that my sister and I began to argue about something, as sisters do, and soon the name-calling commenced.
"Brat."
"Jerkface."
"Butthead."
"Idiot."
Small pause, then with a flourish, "Warthog."
"Moooooooooooom!"
Ah, sweet victory.

So the rest of childhood went as such. I wasn't always the one who threw out the warthog. We never spoke of protocol, but there was an unspoken agreement of sorts that you never started with warthog. Warthog, however, always ended it. Always. I'm not sure how we knew exactly when to throw out the warthog, but we did.

Warthog continued to be with us through our teenage years, and even into adulthood, though it became more of a fond memory, or a jest. In March I was in a store called Animal World. Amanda had some money burning a hole in her pocket, so of course she had to buy a stuffed animal. While browsing this odd assortment of stuffed animals I came across - you guessed it - a warthog. What a perfect birthday present! Never mind that her birthday isn't until the end of July. Finally the big day arrived, and I presented her with the warthog. She loved it. She promptly named it Steph.

The day after her birthday my sister called. There had been a card attached to the warthog describing its eating habits, personality, and the like. She asked if I had read it. I hadn't. "Steph, if we had been armed with this information, it would have changed the entire course of our childhood." She read the card to me, and she was right. I now routinely quote one of the lines - "What the warthog lacks in grace and beauty, it makes up for in strength and intelligence." Pretty cool. Embrace your inner warthog!

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