built a house of straw. Or, rather, she delegated the task to me. Strictly speaking, it's a house of climbing frame, tarpaulin and straw. She did the straw. I did the rest.
So we have two regions - the south, which is the domain of the pig, and the north, which is the domain of the pig-free sty. I have tried several times to put the sty so that the pig can pass through the gate into the sty but nowhere else, and every time the pig manages to invade the north. The north has a pond (all the better for drowning you, my dear) and a tortoise gulag, currently devoid of tortoise (but I don't want it wrecked as the tortoise will return after its months in the fridge), and two ferrets (all the better for nibbling those ears you put so close to the wire).
The geographical separation of pig and pig-free sty was fine for the first couple of nights as it was warmish and dry. But then the rain came. I went out late at night and put a tarpaulin over the sleeping, damp pig. She grunted and settled under it. But yesterday I worried about her out in the rain. Would she get pneumonia? Would she get something like trench foot, or trench trotter? Would she wish she had never come here? And that's why I climbed the climbing frame, dragging plastic sheeting and string, while Nala stood at the bottom blocking the way down, and fashioned a rather rubbishy shelter. I put straw underneath, and she spread it into a bed.
I went out late last night to check she was sleeping in it. She was. And snoring away, until my torch woke her and she panicked, ran around in the dark grunting. She is a big pig. A big pig that you can't see blundering around in the dark is a scary thing. I ran away.