Bernice and I tried to understand, and to explain to our children in whispers, the problems "our orphan" had seen in her short life. It turned out that Pig was scheduled to become a debutante, as her family was one of the 500 of a very cosmopolitan city. According to her, the whole family could hardly wait until grandmother died, so they could divide up grandfather's estate.

Pig's father was in an insane asylum. Her mother was an alcoholic. Her younger sister was on hard drugs, and lived with a hippie rock band.

All of this didn't outweigh the fact that she was driving our family crazy. We couldn't abandon her. It wouldn't have been hospitable to put our guest in a hospital. So, the best method, I counseled, was to treat her, as she did us.

This bit of advice worked out rather strangely. Pig bullied Bernadette to ride back and ask James if he had any feelings of romance in his heart for little Miss Piggy. Bernadette did, and returned with a report—which all of us felt now—that, "No. He says he hates you."
"Oh that silly boy. He is the biggest tease. Go ask him again."

Anyhow, we rode into Sierra City five days later. After crossing under the freeway at Donner's Pass when Miss Smarty Pants argued it couldn't be done. After riding to rescue her when she claimed we were heading the wrong direction, and took off alone, straight for a cliff. After all of this, and other sundry items, she then rode into town, shouting to the crowd that had gathered to watch our impromptu invasion—"We have ridden all the way from Mexico! We are going all the way to Canada."
"Hell no," I told her mother when we finally met in front of the post office. I had dismounted to pick up a check from my father, when a lady came out of the crowd, swung an oversized purse at me without warning, told me that my mail wasn't there, and to, "have a beer." My wife was ready to protect me from mayhem, or a sexual assault (she couldn't figure out which) when I caught on to who this must be, and averted a knock-down street brawl. That's not what made me swear. What prompted my response was Pig's mother suggesting that she would pay us to take her darling along for the rest of the trip.

Now my mother had taught me to be kind to alcoholics, and I have to admit, I actually grew to like this part of the family. Pig's mother tried to help all she could, even if still trying to change our minds by upping the amount of money offered.