My pig is upset, and I think we all know why

If Lord Ashcroft wanted to unleash his literary revenge on Cameron let him not bring pigs into it

"I tried to shield Wilbur...but pigs are smart and he sensed that something was up. I eventually had to sit him down and tell him the whole story" (Getty)

'I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treats us as equals,” said Winston Churchill. As the owner of a pig and living but a stone’s throw from the Prime Minister’s constituency, last week was a particularly distressing one for me. As the story of David Cameron’s alleged indiscretions while at university spread like wildfire I tried to shield Wilbur, my kunekune, from the news. Pigs are smart, however, and he sensed that something was up. I eventually had to sit him down and tell him the whole story. To say he was disgusted would be an understatement. Wilbur is not a total naïf – a woman called Rebecca Loos once manually relieved the great-uncle of one of his closest friends on a TV reality show. He knows that strange things happen to pigs in the outside world, but I could see he expected a lot more from the Prime Minister of this country.

This is not the first time this issue has come up in politics. US President Lyndon B Johnson famously told an aide to spread a story about a Congressional rival having a proclivity for pigs. When the aide protested that it wasn’t true, LBJ replied: “Of course it ain’t true, but I want to make the son-of-a-bitch deny it ….”

Wilbur will  no longer join the dogs on walks, as he fears bumping into the PM in the woods

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I told Wilbur this story and he laughed, hollowly. He is a little sensitive at the moment as his star is very much on the rise. Online footage of him joining my dogs on long walks has gone viral, and he is much in demand. There was a page on him in The Daily Telegraph, a feature in a popular pet magazine and Cotswold Life has just done a profile piece on him. I could see this was very much on his mind.

“You know that Cotswold Life piece?” Wilbur grunted.

“Yes, I think it’ll be great …” I said.

“What photo are they using?” He looked nervously at me.

“I don’t know … why?” I replied.

“It’s just that some of the photos might be a little ... misunderstood ….” Wilbur was chewing the edge of the rug, which he did when nervous.

“Which ones?” I asked.

“The ones in which we are lying on the carpet in front of the Aga and you are offering me an apple.” I did remember those. Wilbur loves apples.

“I thought they were lovely photos,” I said.

“I just don’t want any of my friends to get the wrong idea about our … relationship status ….” Wilbur fixed me with a steely glare. There was a long and rather awkward pause.

“I’m sure everybody will totally get that we are just good friends ….” My voice was a touch high-pitched.

I hated these sorts of conversations. Damn the Prime Minister and Lord Ashcroft. If Lord Ashcroft wanted to unleash his literary revenge on Cameron he should go right ahead. By bringing pigs into it, however, he has made things awkward between Wilbur and me. He is no longer even comfortable joining the dogs on walks as he fears we might bump into the PM in the woods. It’s all very unfortunate.