What’s that I hear? You want another animal adventure? And….wait…you want to hear about pigs AGAIN?!?! Well, if you insist, but just remember, you asked for it! It’s a long one! I must set this story up by explaining that my host mom currently has five pigs that her older (and now deceased and sitting on our shelves in the form of bacon and ham) pig gave birth to about 8 or 9 months ago, and are now quite large. And if you recall my last pig story, as pigs get older, they begin to get restless. Now, on with the story.
This past Monday, host mom (I call her MG, short for Mama Genia), decided she would very much like to go and visit her daughter and grandchildren in the city. I assured her I could handle the small farm while she was gone, the small farm consisting of the five pigs, three dogs, and a cat, oh and a few chickens. I mean seriously, things run pretty smoothly when she’s here, what could really go wrong in just one day? And if something were to go wrong, what are the chances it would just happen to be the day she leaves? Slim, I decided. So, I urged her to go, and must have been pretty convincing, because Monday afternoon, she headed out to visit her family.
That night was a piece of cake. I threw the pigs their food, gave them some water afterwards, and fed the dogs and cat. No problem! The next morning, I got up early, for me, around 7, to wash the dishes and feed the animals again. I fed the dogs and cat, and then headed out to feed the pigs. After that I headed back to bed, the plan being to sleep for another hour or so (hey, I got all my chores done, so why not?), and then go for a run. About an hour later, I awoke to the sound of loud squealing. Now it’s true, pigs can often get pretty rambunctious, but they were unusually rowdy this morning. They were all squealing in a most excited way, and I couldn’t help but wonder if something wasn’t going on outside. So, I grudgingly dragged myself out of bed, and took a look out the window. And what do you think I should see, but a pig loose in MG’s garden!! Not good, because MG had just planted a ton of veggies and pigs love to dig those sorts of things up and gobble them down.
So, I hurriedly threw a sweater on, and some shoes, and ran out to the garden. From a closer view, I realized TWO pigs were running loose in the garden! Great! Now what? The last time the pigs had gotten loose, MG had enlisted my help, because recapturing the pigs is a two person job. One person has to herd the pigs towards the pen, while the other waits to open the pen and then steps back so the pigs don’t get spooked, but walk back in where they belong. The problem is, if you just leave the pen open, the other pigs run out, but if you leave it closed till the free pigs are herded towards it, when you move in to open the pen, the freshly corralled pigs panic, and take off squealing into the garden again. That’s why it’s a two person job. You have to head them off, and have the gate open while at the same time guard the other pigs in the pen who are eyeing the open gate and plotting their own escape.
On top of this, I couldn’t see HOW the pigs had gotten out! The gate to the pen was still wired shut. My only theory was that they must have climbed the gate somehow, which I would think should be no small feat for pigs of their size. Well, I decided, I would give this a shot on my own, and if I absolutely couldn’t manage to recapture and pen the pigs, I would try to enlist the help of a neighbor.
So, armed with a broom in one outstretched arm, and my other arm thrown out as far as possible, off I went after the pigs. My goal was to herd them towards the pen, and then hope they stayed put long enough for me to open the pen and coax them into it. However, the herding them towards the pen took a little bit of practice. They kept breaking formation on me, the black pig running one way, and the pink pig, the other way, both squealing as if they were laughing at me. Meanwhile, the three remaining penned pigs, were standing on their haunches, front legs on the gate, squealing encouragement to the two free pigs. I swear they were!! They were like spectators at a football game, yelling loudly, and squealing even louder when I got too close to one of the liberated garden thrashers. Every time the pigs would outmaneuver me, a chorus of squeals would go up from the penned peanut gallery. I could swear they were placing bets on the event, and I’m pretty sure the odds were against me!
Finally, I cornered the black one. Instead of taking off, as I expected her to do, she just stood there, stock still. I cautiously advanced on her, expecting her to bolt at any second, but she continued to stay rooted to the spot, as if she thought if she were still enough, I’d mistake her hairy black body for just another tree in the garden. When I reached her side, she let me touch her with hardly a movement from her. So, I began to try coaxing her back to the pen. She wouldn’t budge. I guess she was taking this “tree” thing more seriously than I realized, and she was literally “rooted” to the spot. She dug her haunches into the earth, and refused to budge. I had to straddle her, and then wrap my arms around her middle, and actually pick her front half up, just to move her a foot or two. We gradually progressed like this towards the pen, me doing more grunting than the pig. Finally, I made it to the pen, and practically sat on her, while I worked the gate open. Then, I had to SHOVE her as hard as I could to get her to go into the pen. It was quite the workout, and by the time I actually succeeded in getting her back into the pen, I was hot and sweating like….well….like a pig!
One down, now where was the second one? There she was, down at the end of the garden eating MG’s green onions. I should mention that during all this commotion, the dogs, whom I had gated out of the garden area, were frantic with worry for me. Due to all the pig squealing, they thought something was happening to me, and little as they are, were trying with all their might to get through the gated area and come to my rescue. They were barking like crazy, which only added to the cacophony of noises assaulting me.
Arms outstretched, and talking soothingly (yes, I was talking to a pig, OK?!?!), I slowly advanced on the wary onion eater. She was much more skittish than the black one, and as soon as I got within fifteen feet of her, she let out a squeal and took off. I raced in the other direction to head her off, and she did head towards the pen. But when she got there, she realized she was shut out, and as I advanced towards the pen, trying to be as unthreatening as possible, she bolted. This time, she headed into a corralled area between MG’s garden, and the neighbor’s yard. This area had a fence on either side, and was relatively narrow. So, I figured I had her caught. I slowly, cautiously moved towards her, and she kept backing up, and throwing panicked glances around to find any means of escape.
Finally, I had her as far back as the corral went, and she was backed against a fence. This was it, I thought. If I could just get a hold on her, I could move her the way I did the other one, back to the pen. But, just when I thought I could grab her, she charged the fence, ripping the stake holding it upright, right out of the ground, and took off into MG’s garden yet again!! The penned pigs were all squealing encouragement and strategy at her. And I was heating up again in the sun.
I headed back towards the pen to appraise the gate, and contemplate the idea of opening it so that pink pig could go in without me scaring her. I could tell a part of her wanted to be in there with her buddies. But when I got to the pen, I discovered another wrinkle in my plan. The black pig, it turns out, was the genius of the group. She was the idea pig, the ringleader. She had figured out how to unlatch the gate, and was currently working on doing this when I arrived at the pen. The latch system was somewhat complicated, but she had it down to an art, and was in the process of snapping it open. I suddenly realized why MG had wired the latch down, and I also realized that if I didn’t do the same thing, Einstein was gonna make another run for it, and maybe take a few more buddies along this time. But if I wired it shut, it would be that much harder to open if I actually got Pinky back to the pen area. Einstein settled it for me, when I approached with a wire, and she tried to push my hand away. She has a strong snout. Her angry grunt told me she thought SHE was the boss, and I knew I had to wire that gate shut. So, I held Einstein’s head back with one hand, like big brothers do with little sibling that are attacking them, you know, a hand on the head, arm out straight, little sibling thrashing and reaching but not matching the arm span of big brother, same thing here. With the other hand, I worked the wire over the latch. Einstein kept trying to get the other pigs to discourage me as well, but they would only come over and grunt threateningly. They were afraid to get too close. I was reminded of that book Animal Farm, and suddenly began to wonder if it was fiction after all. These pigs suddenly seemed to be very intelligent and calculating. Hmm….
With the gate wired shut, I went after Pinky again. Currently, she was in the process of digging out MG’s potatoes that she had planted in the garden the day before. Again I coaxed her towards the pen; again, she moved towards the pen, only to be discouraged by the closed and wired shut gate. Again, she held a grunted powwow with her buddies, and again, as I moved towards the pen to open the gate, she bolted into the corral area. And yet again, as I advanced on her, she ripped the fence stake, that I had just replaced in the ground, out and ran back into the garden. We kept at this routine for maybe five or ten minutes, going around and around in the same circle, towards the pen, into the corral, through the fence stake, back into the garden. A song suddenly popped into my head “round and round the merry-go bush, the monkey chased the weasel.” I started laughing, but kept chasing Pinky. I think she was enjoying the game, and I had to admit a certain grudging respect growing in me towards her. She was quite athletic, and although not as smart as Einstein, she did possess some intelligence of her own.
At one point, I thought if I blocked off the corral as a possibility, I could corner her at the pen. So, I found a large piece of plywood, and put it across the corral opening. But my grudging respect grew as, the next time we made our circle, she simply hurdled the board, and happily began eating weeds in the corral area. That’s when I got the idea to add higher boards to the one already there, thus trapping her in the corral area instead of the garden. That way, she could happily eat weeds till MG came home, and then we could work together to recapture her. That settled, I found more boards, piled them high, and headed into the house.
For a while, everything was fine, but I just couldn’t get the picture of Pinky ripping through the fence out of my mind. I realized that I kept imagining her back in the garden eating MG’s veggies, while I sat unsuspecting in the house. Finally, I could take it no longer. I quickly surveyed the neighborhood to see if any neighbors were on hand to help, but I saw nobody, and didn’t want to bother anyone holed up in their houses.
Out I went again, this time, not paying quite as much attention to the gate barring the dogs from the pig arena. When I got to the backyard, Pinky was still munching on weeds in the corral area, but I noticed she had knocked a few of the boards over, and I came to the realization, that I would not be able to relax until she was safely back in the pen. So, I re-strategized. Maybe, if I could partition off the area around the pen, I could toss some food in to distract the others, open the gate, and then go after Pinky and herd her back in before the others had realized the gate was unlocked and partially opened. So I set up a haphazard wall around the pen, went and got some food, tossed it into the back of the pen, and then unlatched the gate, only leaving it open a few inches, just enough for Pinky to nudge it when she got there.
The only problem? As I was unlatching the gate, Einstein left the food, and came over. She saw that the wire was off the latch, and the latch was open, and she kept trying to pull the gate open against me holding it closed. She’s strong!!! Pinky had made her way kind of close to the pen, and I thought maybe I could get her in before Einstein made a run for it. At about the same time, the dogs had figured out how to open THEIR gate, and they came racing towards us, barking and yelping and probably thinking they were the cavalry there to save the day.
I ran after Pinky, and only realized too late that Einstein had been waiting for just this opportunity. She pulled the gate open the rest of the way, and before I could get back to the pen to shut it, she had led all the other pigs out as well. The dogs were going crazy, running around the garden on the heels of the pigs, yelping, and nipping, and freaking out, and the pigs were racing all over the garden stopping here and there to nibble on a turnip, or a carrot leaf, or an herb plant of some sort, but constantly squealing and screeching. And I was running around trying to gather them all up at once, and failing to recapture any. It was complete and utter chaos in the garden, and I suddenly realized how funny it would look to anyone passing by. I detached myself from the situation and pictured what it would look like, and I had to stop for a minute till I got control of the hysterical laughter that was threatening to do me in. it was just too hilarious!!! Then, after composing myself, I decided to herd as many pigs as possible back into the pen. I didn’t have to worry about guarding the gate at that point, since they had all already escaped!
Surprisingly enough, the three peanut gallery pigs, were more like lemmings than pigs. They just did what they were told, and were easily herded back to the safety of their pen. I think the idea of freedom was more appealing to them than the reality, and they felt unsafe in that bright and open garden. So, that left just Einstein and Pinky once again. Wow, talk about Déjà vu, and it was, too, as Einstein did the same thing as last time, stopping and refusing to budge. I repeated the straddle-lift-and-drag technique, and once again the SHOVE through the gate, once we reached the pen. Then it was just me and Pinky. AGAIN!!!! I started to feel like Bill Murray on Ground Hog’s Day, repeating the same situation over and over again.
This time, when I chased Pinky into the corral, I realized she was getting tired, and hot from being in the sun for so long. The pen is very shady, but the corral had no shade at all. And I remembered the phrase, “You can catch more flies with honey”. Well, I didn’t want flies, goodness knows there’s enough of THEM around, but I did want Pinky. So, I decided to give it a try. I put up a low barrier in the corral, and then tried to coax Pinky over to me by talking soothingly and holding out my hand. By that time, I had managed to bar two of the dogs from the area again, and had locked a third in the shed until I managed to solve this dilemma.
Pinky began to respond to me. She moved closer, and then closer still. I held my hand out a little further, and she finally let me touch her. I scratched her behind the ears, and she seemed to really like that. I gradually eased nearer, scratching her like a puppy dog the whole time, and trying my most coaxing voice to keep her calm. A few times, she panicked as I started to get a hold of her, and she ran. But she kept coming back. Finally, she pulled away and headed towards the pen like the other times, but the difference this time was that she was no longer as afraid of me. When I moved nearer to open the gate to the pen, she stayed put. I didn’t even need to open the gate once I had unlatched it, because Einstein was already at work, pulling the gate open with her snout so she could make another run for it, but I pushed her back, and then stepped away a bit so Pinky could go in….AND SHE DID!!!!!!! Walked right in, with just a little push from me. After all of that, SHE WAS IN!!!!!!
I decided I didn’t need to go running after that, and even today, several days later, I’m still a little sore. The dogs are still angry at the pigs, and whenever I’m near the pig pen, the dogs run up to me and start barking ferociously at the pigs. Einstein now hops up on the gate and tries to get face to face with me whenever I walk near the pen. But they’re all safe and sound now in that shaded, recently doubly-reinforced pen.
When MG returned, I told her the shortened version of the story (lucky you, you got the looong version!!) And she told me something a bit disturbing. The reason Einstein didn’t move when I approached her both times in the garden? If you’re squeamish you may not want to read this. Apparently, she’s in heat, and she wanted a little….er…how do I say this delicately……she wanted a little…. companionship. I had a flashback to my straddling her and lugging her back to the pen TWICE, and I found myself grimacing in disgust. That’s all I was to her?!? A cheap thrill?!? And here I thought we had developed a deep and meaningful relationship based on mutual respect and admiration forged through shared hardship and trial!! THE PIG!!!!!
g weeds in the makeshift corral.
Einstein: the pig genius
The dogs, Ewok and Balca, harassing Pinky as she saunters around the corral
The penned-in peanut gallery
g weeds in the makeshift corral.
Einstein: the pig genius
The dogs, Ewok and Balca, harassing Pinky as she saunters around the corral
The penned-in peanut gallery
