Thirty years ago, a chance encounter with a self-proclaimed “pig man” left a resonating impression on Dorothy Velasco, a renowned playwright based out of Springfield, Ore. Her latest play, “Pigs in Love,” makes its world debut Friday at the Actors Cabaret of Eugene.
Since the late 1970s, Velasco has wanted to write about pig man, whom she didn’t find abnormal, but rather “bright, lively and likable.” She seized the opportunity 3 1/2 years ago.

The story begins on a suburban Oregon farm and delves into the sloppiness of humans. A matriarchy of five inhabit the farm, including two lovable pink creatures who don’t oink but instead ponder co-existing with humans. The hilarious mix of characters becomes further enlivened with eccentricity by a screwball male guest who asks to sleep in the pig pen.
There’s the flamboyant Athena, 72, always clad in animal print, yearning for love and seeking buried treasure. Jane, her 45-year-old daughter and polar opposite, is plain and pragmatic, focusing on her translations of rare Czech texts instead of romance. Twenty-one-year-old McKenzie is a precocious college senior home for the summer and unsure what to do with her biology degree. And Cory, a.k.a. “Pigman,” is a Ph.D drop-out, ardent pig philosopher and Jane’s long-lost grad school lover.
What’s a family to do when they are all enamored with the same man? As Pigman reciprocates the feelings for all of the women, a chaos of pigsty proportions explodes. Once Athena returns home from an elder hostel retreat smitten with Pigman, McKenzie unfurls a slew of family lies that heightens her self-awareness. The three generations of women become entangled in an unorthodox attraction.
The family’s humorous, poignant and complicated quest to alleviate unfinished business and derail lies ensues as the characters realize they don’t always have very good reasons for the things they do. Jane, for example, fails to reveal the relation between McKenzie and Pigman.
“A person who lives with pigs makes an unusually interesting character, especially if he has a lot of human baggage to carry around and atone for,” Velasco said.
After receiving her master’s degree in playwriting during the late 1970s, a young Velasco decided to move south and improve her Spanish, working for an English newspaper in Guadalajara, Mexico. There, her co-worker profiled an American man named Larry who had traveled the world studying and sleeping amongst pigs. A city woman, Velasco had only seen pigs at fairs but soon met the man who believed pigs were superior to humans.
The pig man was not filthy nor stinky as Velasco had predicted. Instead, his unusual and enthusiastic spirit fascinated Velasco. She subsequently discovered a plethora of men and women who shared an affinity for the light pink creatures, conducting “scientific” studies and writing books about their intelligence higher than that of dogs. Velasco realized that “Babe” wasn’t stretching the truth – pigs could shepherd sheep.
To prepare for the performance, director Reva Kaufman took Velasco and cast to a pig farm last week – in the pouring rain. She noticed that the pigs made a “terrible” mess, shoveling the mud with their noses and clamoring for food. Kaufman, whose only previous interaction with pigs was watching “Porky Pig,” enjoyed observing their “cute” flip-flopping ears and trotting.
Velasco and Kaufman are unsure whether the play will change audience members’ perceptions of pigs. They do anticipate that the smart and sassy themes and interwoven humor will resonate.
“People have covered up large lies and problems in their lives, carrying them around as burdens,” Velasco said. “This play looks at the possibility of tolerance and forgiving oneself for some very guilty feelings.”
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