I’ll start with a non-sequitor… now that I have a sweet camera, I’m going to post large photos, ’cause I like to show off. And then the posts seem longer.
The pigs are doing fine. Originally, we only thought we were getting 2, so we picked out the names Wilma and Betty. And then we got 3, so the third is Blossom Dearie, as their original owner only met us because Will was playing a Blossom Dearie album at the restaurant and she introduced herself to compliment his taste in music.
Have you ever heard someone say “Actually, pigs are very clean animals” or something like that? They were lying.
They step in their food while they eat, their poop smells really bad, and (at least girl pigs) pee straight back, I’m talking Volvo station wagon whose back windshield fluid nozzle is busted and it “pees” on the car behind it at a stoplight straight back. Yes, I am aware that was a weird metaphor. But back to the peeing. Because it’s not like a dog where the boys aim and the girls squat, but instead it just shoots straight out, they often pee on each other accidentally. It’s the projectile vomit of the world of urination. I cannot emphasize how weird it looks.
And the eating? The colloquialisms all fit. Whatever you give them, no matter how much, they will eat until it is gone. 5 bushels of apple pressing pulp? No problem. Oops, was that 4 scoops of food instead of 2? Already devoured.
However. The pigs are by far the friendliest animals on the farm (dogs and cats not included). Wilma likes to be pet, Betty endures pets and Blossom avoids them… guess who is most likely to become bacon before breeding season? They squeal if you come anywhere near their pen within two hours of breakfast or dinner, and they are curious about what’s going on around them. I don’t know that I’d go so far as call them smart, but there is distinct intelligence. Even if they pee funny.