Mr. Sandpig

While battling insomnia last night, I resorted to one of my favorite keys for unlocking the door to sleep: Think about something interesting yet completely unimportant. Last night's conveyor belt to eye closure was the question "Why do pigs grunt?"

Of course, this is not a question that has an easy answer. In fact, the more I asked myself this question, the further I seemed to get from finding an answer. So I thought to myself, perhaps the best way to tackle this puzzle is to ask a similar question, but in a different direction.. The outcome was:

What would happen if pigs did not grunt?

But that question also had no easy answer, so I proceeded to the next question: Why don't pigs moo, or coo, or cluck or neigh?

Once again, I ended up back where I had started: No answer. So the interrogation continued:
Why don't cows grunt, or pigeons or cats?....All non-grunters. I continued to an even bigger question, "Why do humans grunt?" For example, Maria Sharapova.

At this point, it was clear to me that pigs and humans have a lot more in common than I thought. For example, all of us could join hands to sing the following childhood tune at the top of our lungs:

A-grunting we will go,
A-grunting we will go,
Heigh ho, the dairy-o,
A-grunting we will go!

But, alas, no answer again! Nevertheless, I fell asleep at this point, silently singing the above little rhyme over and over until the dairy-o left me surrounded by a bunch of Holstein cattle singing along with me, not a pig in sight.