On the door they’re dancing, up on their hind legs, his hooves on her shoulders, hers on his. It is a scene straight out of a pig prom. But something’s not right.

          There are no chef’s hats on their heads, no tuxedos, no lapels on which to pin a slaw corsage.

          Their smiles are not the smiles of the average Memphis pig. They are not giggling as they barbecue their brethren, not overcome by the hysterical, rapturous ecstasy of an animal who knows his fate and has resigned his self to it, not wearing the mask of the martyr marching proudly to the pit.

          They are happy, genuinely happy, too happy, in fact, for a pair of pigs in the barbecue capital of the world. But they are not pigs, not really.

          The Dancing Pigs represent Brady and Lil, the couple from whom Frank Vernon and his wife Hazel learned the recipes and traditions that now come out of The Bar-B-Q Shop’s kitchen.

          The Vernon ’s, long time costumers of Brady and Lil’s, offered to take on the business from the aging couple. For more than a year Brady and Lil taught the Vernon ’s everything they knew about Bar-B-Q.

          When the Vernon ’s moved the store over to Madison and changed the name to The Bar-B-Q Shop they kept the logo as a link to Brady and Lil.

          And so they dance, on the front door, and on the backs of the servers’ shirts, and on bottles of sauce and seasoning, safe as sacred cows from the fate of the Memphis pig.