I used to have a neighbor who had a pet pig. He was a big pig, too, not a cute little "Babe" type pig. He would laze around the back yard secure in the knowledge that he would never end up on somebody's plate alongside some fried eggs or sweet potatoes.
One day my sister and brother-in-law were at my house and I mentioned something about the pig lady. That's what we affectionately called the neighbor with the big pig, and the moniker just rolled off my tongue like ... well ... bacon drippings.
My sister knew all about the pig lady, but my brother-in-law was horrified. "Shame on you," he said, "You shouldn't talk about your neighbor that way." He was even more aghast when my sister and I started to laugh, and my sister came to my defense. "No, SHE is not a pig, but she has one for a pet."
Alas, the pig lady moved away, so I can't get any more mileage out of her name.
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