Posted 02-24-2003 at 05:54:39
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Youíd think Iíd learn. That at some point I would sigh and say, this is something I have no control over, and just let it happen. But I canít! Itís not in me. Iím referring to our sow Hannah. I know sheís a pig, and theyíre called pigs for a reason, but Hannah exemplifies every nasty thing anyone ever said about pigs. Sheís greedy, sheís a glutton, sheís underhanded and sneaky and if thatís not enough, sheís a thief. Yes I said thief.
This pig is very well fed. Sheís gone beyond chubby to fat, but that doesnít stop her from acting like sheís starving to death. Iíve shown her statistics, trying to be gentle.
ďHannah, honey, youíre a blimp. You need to lay off.Ē
She just shrugs it off, and continues her nasty behavior. Hannah discovered several months ago that despite her girth she is able to wriggle her way under the fence from one pasture to the next. This is how she perpetrates her crime. She waits until I am not looking and strikes like a snake, nailing that extra loaf of bread or not quite empty bag of feed.
Then the chase is on. I donít want to try to count how many times I have chased her across the pasture screaming, threatening all kinds of retribution while she runs, and despite the fact that sheís fat and ungainly, manages to outrun me every time, all the while lugging a loaf of bread or feed bag.
Sheís learned that she only needs to run so far before I give out and then itís just a matter of finding the weak spot in the wrapper and the prize is hers. If anyone ever tells you that pigs arenít intelligent animals, donít believe them.
She not only found her escape route, but she knows the precise moment my back will be turned, exactly which end of the feed wagon to snatch from as one end is higher than the other, just how far out of reach to be to avoid a well placed kick, exactly how fast I can run and how far. Plump, yes. Dumb, no.
Why havenít I fixed the fence, some may ask. Why isnít she contained where she canít get out? There must be a way to prevent this daily routine. Well, Iím sure there is, and if I tried hard enough Iím sure I could find it. But, being just that hardheaded I know that one day sheíll slip up. Sheíll misjudge the kick range, or drop that loaf of bread, or snag it on the side of the wagon, botching her getaway, and thatís when Iíll have her. Itís not about fixing it where it wonít happen. Itís about revenge, and Iím not above it.