When you live in the country, you never know what your next adventure is going to be.
As Hubby was getting ready to leave for work the other morning, I was thinking how I needed to post a blog in a couple of days and had no idea what the devil I was going to write about. Wouldn’t you know the Lord provides in mysterious ways….
I kissed Hubby goodbye and topped off the cats’ food and ducked into the bathroom to wash up before starting my daily routine. Two seconds after I closed the bathroom door, I heard the front door open.
I stuck my head back out. Hubby had returned and informed me that one neighbor’s potbellied pig was in another neighbor’s pasture next to our house.
(Okay, let me define neighbors: We can’t visit with other over the fence unless one of us trudges all the way across vast stretches of fields or through woods that separate us. We can see the house roof of the neighbor who has a pasture next to us. Pig neighbor’s house is on the other side of a hill, so we can’t even see it.)
Hubby called the pig’s owner, who had already left for work, and informed him we would keep pork-chops-on-the-hoof until he could come and get it (don’t worry, that’s not what Hubby called the pig). Then came the matter of actually keeping Porky on our place.
Luckily for us our turkeys sleep in, and their pen is just over behind the house. I closed the door to their coop so they wouldn’t decide to come out and get front row seats to watch the show. Then we opened the gate to their pen and propped up a cattle panel to funnel the swine in there.
I remembered the turkeys had a trough full of corn in their yard. Concerned the pig might overeat and get sick, but Hubby was already driving it toward the pen, I thinned out the grain the fastest way I knew how: I shoved handfuls of corn into my pockets.
With hips bulging, I took my position to be sure Piglet would zig instead of zag when he came around the corner. But that’s when the cats showed up.
I don’t know if Piggy had ever seen cats before, but even though they’re only about a sixth his size, the sight of them made him freeze. The younger cat sat down right in the path and stared at him. The older cat stepped to the side but hunkered down in the pounce position. I’m pretty sure he was convinced they were thinking “Bacon!”
I picked up the cats and dropped them over the garden fence. They took the hint, and we were able to push Hambone into the turkey pen with no more interruptions.
(Yes, we have dogs, but two are herd guardians that stay in the goat pasture. The yard dog apparently decided that we were nuts for bringing this creature on our place, and he preferred not to be seen associating with us.)
I’d like to say this story has a neat and tidy ending: Choppers got to go home, the cats discovered there was enough food in their bowls that they didn’t need a side of bacon, and I got to take the corn out of my pockets.
Well, two out of three ain’t bad.
Don’t worry, this isn’t a tragedy. But there’s a part two to this particular pigtail that I’ll share next week. You see, life tends to be full of surprises….