Dick explored philosophical, sociological and political themes in novels with plots dominated by monopolistic corporations, authoritarian governments, and altered states of consciousness. The wub stood sagging, its great body settling slowly. It was sitting down, its eyes half shut. A few flies buzzed about its flank, and it switched its tail. It sat. There was silence. "It's a wub," Peterson said. "I got it from a native for fifty cents. He said it was a very unusual animal. Very respected." "This? It's a pig A huge dirty pig " "Yes sir, it's a pig. The natives call it a wub." "A huge pig. It must weigh four hundred pounds." Franco grabbed a tuft of the rough hair. The wub gasped. Its eyes opened, small and moist. Then its great mouth twitched. A tear rolled down the wub's cheek and splashed on the floor. "Maybe it's good to eat," Peterson said nervously. "We'll soon find out," Franco said.