It has been a long time since I have
written any pig stories hence; I shall now add yet one more to the list of the
many previous ones. While growing up here
on our family farm, we always had pigs as well as cattle and multitudes of assorted
and diverse critters. Among other adventures Tim and I had with pigs, some of
which are described in previous stories, we had one thing we used to do that
was really fun. (If I remember and am feeling benevolent, I will post links to
some of my previous pig stories below).
When our herds of pigs (or
"sounder" of pigs if you semantic purists out there want to get
technical) were young, we used to experience being run over by a big stampede
of crazed animal feet. I am sure we got this idea from watching westerns of cattle
stampedes running over rustlers and renegade Indians on the warpath. In addition, we also watched Tarzan movies on
TV where he called a big herd of elephants to run over unruly natives. We
usually had anywhere from 20 to 30 or more young pigs at any given time which
were a result of an over sexed boar and promiscuous sows. Tim and I would herd
all the pigs into a large enclosed box stall in the barn and then one of us
would lay on the barn floor across the thresh hold of the open stall door. The
other would jump into the stall and drive all the pigs out. They then would run
over whoever was laying across their only exit in order to escape the overcrowded
box stall and the yelling accompanied with such things as swinging boards,
canes, or anything else we could find to induce pigs into a state of sheer
panic. The best thing for the appointed "stampeder" to use was an
electric cattle prod if one was handy.
At least we showed a rare instance of
common sense to lay face down with our arms around our head to protect our eyes
from ramming pig hooves from crazed panicky pigs.
I can still vividly remember how it felt
to have dozens of little pig hooves running over me. I don't recall it hurting
that much or being sore afterward. Even if it were, to our "kid" rationale,
the fun outweighed any consequences we may have experienced. Now that I think
back, I'm surprised we didn't induce any of our cattle or horses to stampede
over us! If we had, I would probably be on crutches to this day. It's a miracle
that we apparently actually exercised some semblance common sense. Of course
when we are young, we think we are indestructible and immortal and don't have
much of a sense of fear. I think this is especially applicable to boys since I
can't imagine any young girls doing things of this nature.
Thus, it was just "another
day" on the farm for Tim and me. J
