For three days, Bruno, my stubborn old boar, had been obsessed with one corner of the pen. He dug there from sunrise to sunset, ignoring food, shade, and even his favorite treats. At first, I thought he was simply being a pig—determined, messy, and impossible to reason with.
But by the third day, it no longer felt like ordinary behavior.
Each morning, I would fill in the growing hole, only to find it deeper by lunchtime. Bruno would return to the exact same spot, snout pressed to the earth, pawing and grunting with relentless focus. It was as if he knew something was hidden beneath the soil.
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