Do you think Daisy will?

I grew up in the heart of the Colorado gold country. There were mines all over the hills and mountains. The miners always left their fan-shaped dumps on the hillsides and sometimes shacks and equipment. There was an old mine down about a half-mile below the ranch where we lived and there was a shack there with some rusty shovels and a box of dynamite. That dynamite was old. The nitroglycerine had crystalized out. It wouldn’t have taken very much for it to go off. We had this pig that kept getting out. One day he burrowed under the fence and went over to that old mine and started eating the dynamite. And it went off. It blew all the windows out of the ranch house, broke the ridgepole on the hay barn, knocked over three outhouses, set fire to four haystacks and you know, for a few weeks there we had a mighty sick pig on our hands.

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