How many folks do you know who have pig stories to tell?  Probably not many.  I have three “tails” for you today so sit back, grab some pork rinds and let’s “git er done”.

My husband decided that we should have a couple of pigs.  The fact that we knew nothing about pigs never bothered him.  So off he went to a neighbor’s and procured us two piglets.  These little porkers were around the size of fat beagles.  Cute as a sow’s ear but noisy.   Just think of that commercial with that annoying pig “wheeeee-ing” out the car window and multiply that by a couple of decibels.  Their squealing used to make the enamel on my teeth peel.  They also are very hard to catch.  Like a naked, wet, toddler.  So we get these two piggies, (which are supposed to be castrated….notice I said, “supposed to be”) and we name them Ruby and Gertie after our mothers.  No Freudian slips there, eh?  We had them a few days when Scott goes out of town for work and we get a severe storm. O and I are down in the basement in her bedroom getting ready to get into the cubby under the stairs (our safe place) and I am on the phone with my mom-in-law assuring her we will be safe, when all of a sudden there is a piglet running by the window.  Followed by another.  Somehow they had gotten out of the pen and were running amok.  In a storm.  No husband home to send out to get them so I had to go out in the storm, amid all the tall trees, with the lightening and wind and rain, trying to catch these sons of a sow.  Ever see at the fair the piglet catching contest? Not easy as they run fast and if you do catch them, they flail and kick and squeal up at storm.  Now try that in a storm being very out of shape and scared witless.  I had grabbed a couple of dog collars and leashes hoping to grab one, collar it, leash it and drag it back to the pen.  “Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men.”   Now, dear reader, just close your eyes and imagine me running like a wild woman, praying out loud, “God help me”, and yelling, “Here piggie, piggie”.   Too bad it was before cell phones, cause I’m sure a video on You Tube of this would have gone viral!   Somehow I got those &^%$ pigs back into their pen (I must have blocked it from my memory…..you do that in traumatic events..).   I wish I could say that that was the only time they got loose but no, we had many more adventures with the pigs but I had to narrow it down!

Second story involves pigs from a neighboring farm…….

Picture this:  Beautiful summer day, O and I are sitting out on our swing down  by the road, there is a work crew putting on an addition to the house and all is well in the world when suddenly trotting down our driveway are three big pigs.   Now, I realize that we do live in the country and to see wild life around our house is not unusual but pigs????  We didn’t know anyone in our area who was even raising pigs so I did what any sane mother would do, I yelled, “Run to the house” cause I thought maybe the pigs were rabid or mad.  Like I say, I have a very vivid imagination and watch way too many crazy shows on cable TV.  So O and I run for the house and I yell for the men working on the house to watch out for the pigs coming down the driveway.  (I bet that was something they had never heard before or since!) And of course, husband is not home. (He was never home in any crisis…..but then, if he had been I wouldn’t have these great stories to tell!)  The workmen tried to shoo the pigs away but once a pig gets something in it’s head there is no moving it and they made themselves at home.  Ok, who do you call about some rogue pigs?  Pig Busters?  Plunket Pig Control?   The Piginator?   There was no 911 at that time and can you really call the pigs on the pigs????  So O and I stayed in the house and the workmen left cause they couldn’t work with pigs running around.  Finally husband got home and I must say he was quite calm at the prospect of a herd of wild pigs in our yard.   He convinced me they weren’t rabid or mad and I needed to help him try to get them to leave.  Pigs love to root around in dirt so they were having a field day making holes in our yard.  So the three of us went outside and two of the three pigs decided they had visited long enough and trotted back down the driveway, hung a left, and trotted down the road.   The biggest pig tho, decided it was going to hang around for a bit longer.  While we were outside trying to figure out how to evict a pig from our premisses, a young couple come by and ask if we have seen a pig. They were “pig sitting” for a neighbor and the pigs had gotten out of the pen and two had come back on their own but they were missing one.  Well, funny thing, we HAD a visiting pig….what are the chances?    But how to get it to go home?  We tried pulling our truck up to the ditch and putting a piece of plywood down to make a ramp and we tried corralling it with a metal ladder…only result was I got my arm smashed between pig and ladder.  Pig decides we are not very good hosts and trots off to the woods with young couple and husband following as pig must go home.   Pig has no intentions of going home so husband decides to take matters into his own large hands and grabs a 16# sledgehammer and figures if he knocks out pig maybe then we could get it into the truck to bring home.  Any idea how hard a pig skull is?  Husband hits pig on head, pig grunts, shakes head and trots off.  By now, it is getting dark and it is decided that the pig can stay as long as it wants as we are defeated.  The pig stays a week, destroys the inside of our stable, eats all our dog food and then decides it’s vacation is over and trots back down the driveway, hangs a left and starts down the road.  Husband takes no chances and follows pig in truck ready to head it off should it decide to turn back.  In family lore this story is called, “The Pig From Hell” and we are still talking about the great ham and bacon we got from our neighbors when they returned and learned of our week of hosting said pig!

Third story happened a few years ago as I was driving home.  I took a side road in Saginaw and as I was driving, I saw a line of creatures on the road ahead of me.  At first I thought it must be a pack of dogs, but as I got closer, I realized it was a line of pigs!  There they were, happy as can be, trotting down the road enjoying their freedom.  Perhaps they were on their way to get a beer….what goes better with pork rinds than beer?  I pulled up behind them unsure as to what to do next.  Since they took up both sides of the road, I couldn’t go around them.   Now as much fun as it is to watch pigs trot down the road, I had better things to do so I beeped my horn which only made them trot faster but still in a line.   So I beeped a couple of times which made them all run to the ditch and I was able to pass but I’m pretty sure I saw one of them flip me the hoof as I passed by!


About thelumberjackandthegypsy

The lumberjack is my husband and he owns Arrowhead Wood Products; Arrowhead Toboggan and Snowshoe; and Lake Superior Furniture Co. and is the exclusive manufacturer of wood shutters for Summit Hill Shutter Co. The gypsy is me, and I have a passion for teaching people to tap into their creative side, even when they think they don't have one! I did not grow up creative or artsy and I was in my thirties before I started sewing and creating things. I am a rug hooker; artisan teddy bear maker; painter (from pictures to large pieces of furniture!); knitter; doll maker; needle-felter, repurposer; sewer; decorator; blogger; glamper; reader; vintage jewelry maker; junker; and now a shop owner. But the lumberjack and I feel our greatest gifts in this world are our four grandkids and our daughter and her husband and our relationship with Jesus Christ. We have been married for more than 33 years and most of that time we have lived out in the country on a hobby farm where we have raised chickens, turkeys, ducks, goats, pigs and beef cattle. We also homeschooled our only child for her entire school years. We lived out our dream of being like the The Little House on the Prairie and they were great times. I also have a personal blog: rantingsofamadqueen.wordpress.com where I tell stories of what life on the farm has been like and other things that pop up in my very weird mind. I prefer "quirky or eccentric" instead of weird (sounds more fascinating and less creepy)!

4 responses »

  1. That was funny! And it reminds me of another pig story, let’s call it Pig in the City. Years ago I had an unconventional friend who lived in a nice neighborhood near UMD . For some unknown reason she decided to adopt a piglet and named it Geranium. She would take Geranium out for walks, and visits to her children’s school (show and tell) and all was well for a time, but cute piglets do tend to grow up into huge sows. So what to do with Geranium over the winter months as she was getting to large for the house? Of course, move her down to live in the basement, where she rooted open the freezer and ate it’s contents. The children became terrified having this ever growing animal banging around in the basement trying to escape, Geranium was no longer cute and it was pretty unsettling (animal cruelty?). Well, spring finally came, Geranium was full grown and my friend decided it was time to have her butchered ( to replace the freezer food that the pig had eaten) but first, Geranium could perform another service, she put her out in the backyard to act as a living roto tiller for the garden! Though my friend’s backyard had a privacy fence around it, neighbor’s eventually investigated the “strange noises” coming from it and were horrified to find this huge sow living there! The police were called, alas, Geranium, ended up back in the basement freezer as roasts and bacon!

  2. Pig tales.. takes me back to life on the farm in Indiana when I was a wee child. I remember a neighbor’s pig getting loose and my mom wouldn’t let me go outside because that porker was reportedly rabid and foaming at the mouth; I think they had to shoot him. We had piggies, too, and my sis, Sharon, and I sneaked down behind the barn once even though we were told not to go near the barn that day. Turns out a few of our pigs were giving birth, something sis and I had no clue about. We were amazed! We told our mom that we saw one of the pigs “pooping out bloody babies.” Then we got in big trouble for going near the barn that day. Later in life I read about a farmer who had fallen while out “slopping the hogs”. Incapacitated by whatever medical condition caused him to fall in the first place, the hogs decided the farmer was more tasty than their slop. Gruesome, I know, but I finally understood why my mom was so paranoid about her children getting too close the pigs on the farm.

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