You know that old saying that “people look like their dogs”… I like to take it a bit further. When visiting zoos, nature reserves, and farms, I look out for “familiar” faces among the cast of creatures.
Warthogs being a case in point. I won’t tell you whose name came forth spontaneously from my big mouth! It’s more fun leaving it to guesswork (you can get yourself into trouble, not me). Is it the hairstyle? Or the shovel-shaped snout? Could be the vicious tusks… or the beady eyes. Oh yes, it was the distainful expression, the irritated “Don’t disturb me” look, and the filth excavated by a warthog nose.
Powerful and swift, you don’t want to be in a grumpy warthog’s targetting apparatus.
A warthog has a suspicious eye. There are a good few pounds of juicy pork attached to those mighty bones, and any predator able to catch it will enjoy a feast! No wonder warthogs look grumpy.
What would Jesus say to a warthog? “Blessed are the grumpy, for they shall cause trouble.”
Or, more likely, something on the lines of “I have come to save the ugly, the bad-tempered, the harassed, the ‘high-on-the-menu’ and understandably grumpy ones; not the cute-looking Bambis who think they’re OK and don’t need help.”
Confession time. I have an inner warthog hidden away. I try to control its dratted grumping, and do my best to present a kinder face to the world. But there a few names who have brought out the warthog in me over the years. I apologise, inwardly at least, and hope my grumpiness was at least partially concealed- and has been hopefully forgiven. For I too need the help of the Great Physician to make me whole on the inside: which should eventually shine through. With God’s help, even a warthog can smile sweetly and not scare the crowd!
The Reflectionary 