Gary Gerrone: Can't chuck this neighbor, even though he's a pig

We all have one of those neighbors. Well, mine has the name of Chuck … and Chuck's a pig! Many would worry that Chuck would read this and react negatively, but the fact is, Chuck doesn't read. Like, Chuck doesn't read anything. It could be that I am assuming here just because I have never seen him read, but I will stick out my neck and say that Chuck doesn't know how to read. But before taking the deep dive, let's make it clear that for the most part Chuck doesn't bother most people. I have to use the term "most" here because Chuck does tend to sneak into the neighbor's vegetable gardens. Like, who would do a thing like that? I mean, it would be one thing if he made something to share out of the stuff he steals, but he doesn't. He just eats it! Eating is obviously his hobby. He spends all day, every day, eating. The guy eats constantly! Get a different hobby Chuck! Moreover, Chuck is such a vegetarian, that he literally doesn't cook a thing. Heck, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even wash his food before eating it. And you know what else? He eats everything with his hands. Chuck, have you ever heard of a knife and fork? And maybe a toothbrush too! I don't know how his "green" diet turns his teeth, and Chuck has some really big chompers, so yellow. At least I haven't seen him smile in any neighborhood pictures! One would assume that just eating vegetables would be a pretty healthy diet. But, like most things, Chuck goes overboard. He eats good things in excess! Moreover, he gains weight as if he is a balloon attached to an air compressor! To see him in the late fall is, well, it's not a pretty picture. I can't see why he isn't embarrassed by it all. I mean, if he had to climb a ladder in October, the darn ladder would take one look at him and run! Chuck seems to tolerate me, but for most people he just runs away. Except in the fall, then he just waddles away. There is little lost here. Chuck is not a conversationalist. I have even bet the neighbors that they can't get him to talk. I haven't lost yet. And whistling doesn't count. Yep, for some strange reason, Chuck irregularly whistles. It's not a happy, you know, whistle-while-you-work kinda whistle. In fact, he mostly does it when he climbs trees. I mean, really? Why he climbs an occasional tree I haven't a clue. They are never large trees, so he obviously isn't scoping out the neighborhood. And once he wills his large body up into a tree he looks so completely out of place. More than that, he looks like he never meant to do it in the first place. And additionally, he looks like climbing back down wasn't something he considered. So, picture this: fat Chuck in a tree, embarrassed to the max, and then he whistles. Weird, huh? Besides failing at tree climbing, Chuck likes to dig. Note here, I didn't say "do yardwork" or participate in gardening. He just likes to dig … dig holes. I would like to see Chuck out in his yard with a metal detector so that I could justify this practice, but he doesn't have one. If he is a treasure hunter, he must go by some sixth sense that I am not aware of. Stranger still, he climbs into some of these holes and somehow turns around and then he peers out of them. Did I mention that Chuck has an unusually shaped head? I swear, when he looks out of his holes all you see are his ears, eyes and nose. Can paranoia drive evolution? I see flat-headed Chuck peering out of one of his holes and I think it can. Chuck doesn't drive … and that's a good thing. I mean, Chuck can rarely cross the street without incident. I think he waits, as kind of a practical joke, for a car to get too close and then he sprints, or waddles, across the road. Brakes are applied, tires squeal and Chuck wanders off with an air of "I meant to do that!" Like most of us, Chuck has a serious dislike for winter. Sometime in the late fall, Chuck just disappears. I have never seen him leave town. I have never seen him "stock up" for winter. I have never seen a Grubhub driver stop in front of his place. In the dead of winter, it is like he doesn't even exist. He is just gone. I should clarify this. There always seems to be a day, one singular day, in the middle of winter when he shows his flat head. He peers around for a few moments, and then he is gone again. What's up with that? Did he lose track of winter? I am imagining how well Chuck would do as a weather forecaster. A month or two later, Chuck reappears as if back from the dead, and he commences doing his odd stuff. This time, however, something is different. Chuck has lost weight. Well, Chuck has lost weight, but his skin hasn't. You know when really large people lose obscene amounts of weight and their skin sags and bags? Well, that's how Chuck looks in the spring. Did he work out all winter? Did he fast all winter? (You know, it's popular now!) Knowing Chuck, he probably just gave up on the winter and said, "Wake me up when it's over!" Which, of course, is completely absurd because, you know, Chuck doesn't talk. And so, as the warm season progresses, Chuck partakes in his peculiar routines. Gardens are looted. Car tires leave loud black marks on the road. Holes are dug. And Chuck proves once again he is a pig. Yep, Chuck the pig. Chuck the whistlepig. Ha, that's a good name for him. But groundhog is also quite descriptive. Woodchuck? I can't see Chuck putting in the effort to toss wood. Contact Gary Gerrone at garysgerrone@hotmail.com.