A little piggy pampering

They are the best pets I’ve ever owned.

If you had told me eight years ago when I started this whole crazy farming lifestyle with four chickens that I would talk nonstop about two squealers named Spike and Chester, I would have told you there was no way I was ever going to own pigs.

My concerns seemed founded. They seemed dirty, smelly, antisocial and otherwise nothing more than bacon walking around on four stubby legs, all the while making the sound of a great-uncle who has had too much food at the dinner table.

My experience with pigs was riding in the car with my folks past a hog farm located at the north end of the county and boy did it ever reek. My friends who had farming families would say, however, that this smell was the smell of money. They were right, of course, from the amount of baby back ribs, pork belly, roasts and any other cut of pork you could find in the local supermarket.

At the county fair, my parents would always warn that we’d “get worms” if we patted the portly piggies. The hogs were pretty much a hands-off animal and one that we shouldn’t spend any time around.

It wasn’t until the recent arrival of these two potbelly pigs on the farm that I now see so much more about these creatures.

On a recent trip down to the barn to feed the animals, I decided I should spend some quality time with the porcines. Lately, I feel like I’ve been running from place to place for chores and was not giving the piggies partiality to grooming and general bonding time. I took a brush for each hand and set myself down in their straw. As a side note, the piggies only use one corner of their pen for bathroom duty, so I was not afraid of sitting down in something else.

Instantly, Chester and Spike moved toward me, nudging my jacket pockets for treats and making the most hilarious sounds as I brushed their coarse hair. This was obviously something they were enjoying, and I was having quite the time watching them.

After a bit of piggy pampering, Spike went off to explore the bottoms of my rubber boots, and Chester decided he was going to place his head on my lap and take a snooze. Such a far cry from the pigs I had created in my mind years ago.

I often think of people the same way, too. Perhaps they’re not the “perfect person” that we enjoy being around, but if we give them a little pampering and a chance, we might just find out they are the best people we know.

Until next time…

Stephanie Strothmann owns Purple Shamrock Farm LLC in rural Seymour. Send comments to [email protected].