In the Pig’s Pen (iambic tetrameter)

[billy]

i'm not well up enough on meter to say anything more than i think there are a couple of places ( bolded out, mainly the 3rd verse) the rhymes aren't bad though you have a couple of half or near rhymes (can they be made into perfect rhymes?
in places it feels as though you add an and or unnecessary word in order to fit the meter.
i think it's cuteness carries it through well enough, and is very apt for out site

an edit or two could turn it into a silk purse
thanks for the read.

Out of a litter of twelve pigs,
young Hammy was the pretty one;
his skin was pink, so was the nose,
he oinked and squealed when looked upon.

With suckling pigs attached to her,
his mom lay on her bed of straw
and grunted sighs of great relief,
for absent was the mean papa.

He was at work in oak tree groves,
in search of priceless tasty truffle,
found in Gascogne, in Gallic land,
where dogs and pigs are used to snuffle

for fungi in rich forest soil;
a piece of bread is their reward.
His day’s work done, the boar went home
and took a mud bath in the yard,

then heard the strangest little squeals,
and there he saw those piglets feed,
attached to mamma’s swollen teats.
The sow forewarned papa--indeed--

she knows her piglets are at risk
when papa has an appetite
that does not leave immune his brood;
therefore, she grunts, which means: she’ll fight.

As time goes by, the boar calms down,
and he inspects the piglet's nose,
then sees potentials in its glow:
"That nose is tender as a rose!”

And now Dad thinks, when Ham grows up,
he’ll teach him all the tricks of trade;
when his time comes and he’s ham, missing half a foot
his son dig’s truffles of fine grade.

So, Hammy learned to sniff like dad
beneath the wide and tall oak trees,
and if he isn’t ham by now,
he wades in mud up to his knees.