This is the story of an ordinary piglet bought in a Telavi cattle market. He was lucky because the life he would live was absolutely different from the lives of other animals: he lives in a cosy pigpen, with the wallpapers inside and the colorful facade. Many things change from Autumn to Spring, Caesar gets bigger and more I see him, more I love him. Last time I visited him I started to knit a sweater, a red one, because he loves red. I sometimes read lyrics to him about humanity existence and the characteristics of a mankind but I don’t think he understands. What is the difference between a pig who has a name and the other pigs who don’t?