2015 is off to a great start people. Just for your laughing pleasure, and enlightenment… I present, “MY DAY.”
Up at 6:00 am for a three hour drive to pick up feed and talk with my supplier. Back at home around 11:00, and 15 baby pigs are rooting the back yard (this is the normal part of the day because they can run through the standard sized mesh of the fence when they’re less than two months old).
Unloaded the feed, and started feeding everyone. Shoo’ed the baby pigs back to the mama’s. Get them all back into the pasture and fed, go to the shop to put up some feed, turn around and there’s five of the full size pigs looking at me at the door of the shop. Walk them back into the pasture with some buckets of feed and painful coercion. Locate the gaping hole in part of the fence and repair.
Back up to take care of chickens and coming out of their feed shed, I’m met with the mama pig (Dixie) and all 15 babies looking at me through the feed shed door with an expression on Dixie’s face resembling, “Good morning farmer Rob, welcome back!” More bucket wrangling and coercion. More fence checks. Found the problem and repaired accordingly.
So now, I go to get the truck that we use for hauling livestock with the trailer, and the battery is dead. Jump it off, and we’re headed to the trailer to hitch up. AT THIS POINT, ALL 35 OF THE PIGS ARE IN A DIFFERENT PASTURE. I open the gates to bring the trailer into the EMPTY pasture to load the pigs and I see all 35 of them cresting the hill in full speed towards me and the open gate. I rush to the gate to shut it real quick and the gate falls off the hinges. By the time the gate is back in operation, my position has been compromised by a pork assault and three full sized pigs are running out the gate opening. Gate is now shut and I don’t care that three are out because I’m knee deep in mud, sweaty on a 40 degree day, and I now have the two most tame pigs nipping at the back of my legs. Run back out of the pasture for more buckets of treats and engage in more bucket warfare/coercion to get the pigs back in and away from the truck so I can park the trailer in the correct spot to load them.
AT THIS POINT, ALL OF THE PIGS ARE OCCUPIED WITH THEIR TUBS FULL OF PIGGY TREATS. Unhitch said trailer and off I go. Now I’m stuck in the pasture and 4×4 doesn’t want to cooperate. I’m now engaged in truck coercion. 4×4 finally goes in gear and I’m finally rolling. Truck is in front of the gate to leave the pasture, and I perform a quick spot check to see where all the pigs are, and they’re still completely and intently occupied and astonished by the piggy crack that their noses are buried in. Opening the gate, and Huston, you are a go for launch out of the pasture. Hop in the truck put it in drive and I’m moving. Get out of the truck to shut the gate, and Houston we have a problem.
AT THIS POINT, ALL 35 PIGS ARE AT THE GATE OPENING STARING AT ME WITH AN EXPRESSION OF, “Do you feel lucky punk? Well, do ya?” that is straight out of the Clint Eastwood movie. I bolt for the gates and they bolt forward like an offensive line at the super bowl. Get the gates shut and Dixie is out with four others running away from me like, “woooo hoooo!!!” Now I’m back to bucket warfare and full blown pig wrangling in the mud. Dixie senses that I’ve had enough and goes back in towards the piggy crack I’ve poured and the other four follow suit after some pig dancing as I like to call it.
AT THIS POINT, ALL OF THE PIGS ARE IN THE PASTURE AND CONTENT, THE TRAILER IS READY, AND THE GATES ARE SHUT. Head up to the house and pull off my muddy boots then go in for a delicious (and in my opinion WELL EARNED) beverage. Head back outside to go pick some collards to get ready for supper and as I come into the back yard, up under the rabbit hutch is two full sized pigs rooting in the ground. They looked at me; I looked at them. The music from the old western movie, “The Good, The Bad, The Ugly” began to play and a tumbleweed rolled between us bouncing while being pushed by the wind. I drew first and shooed them back to the pasture only to find them hit the part of the fence that I think is solid and they pull the poles out of the ground going under it.
So I don my mud boots, head to the fencing supplies, and away I go starting at one corner and refusing to quit until I’m all the way back to where I started. Half way through planting new poles in the ground to fix ANY vulnerable spot in the fence where they may be able to go under it, the pole installation tool breaks in half. The rest of the poles had to be beaten in with a hammer and the only one I can find is one that looks like it came out of a Bob the Builder toy tool set.
As the sun set and I finished pounding poles in with a wiffle ball bat of a hammer, I walk past my pigs. It was like something out of a paranormal movie where they were lined up in an almost perfect line. Staring at me. No, correction, GLARING at me in a “Children of the Corn” kind of way. “Happy New Year you spoiled freaking pigs,” I say as I walk by, and Porky, Dixie, and Suzi Q all three smiled I swear it on my life.
Today was my first full day back to working as normal on the farm since my surgery. Today is also the first day of 2015. I hope y’all enjoyed reading about my day! Happy New Year everyone. The pigs sure are having a good one.