El Guapo was a fine pig, the biggest of our four by plenty. He was red and chubby; a Duroc by breeding, a Hurtubise by fate. He weighed in somewhere around 240 to 280 lbs according to our best estimates and was a happy hog all of his days. That is, until this morning...
Yesterday evening we backed the truck up to the cement ledge at the high point of the pig pen, found materials for a ramp and a hog-guide and, trusting in our innate farming know-how, thought that we'd be in good shape to get Guappy loaded up in about a half hour on Monday morning and on to our 7 a.m. drop off at the butcher.
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| Ready for action |
When one is accustomed to getting up between 7 and 7:30 in the morning, 5:55 a.m. comes rather early -- especially when the hideous shrieks of the alarm clock double as a call to arms in the treacherous warfare of loading a hog into a pick-up truck. Nevertheless, we happy farmers ambled over to the pig pen around 6:10, reminded ourselves of our well-laid plans, and got to work. We went into the building, isolated our prize-hog, and got him locked in the confinement of the feeding area. Then we went out and armed ourselves: Steph wielding a small PVC tube for 'motivation' and I a spare door for guidance purposes.
What came next will surely strike the seasoned farmer as a ludicrous parody. But, to other ignorant suburbanites, like myself, it may sound like a good plan. And yet, what we know now is that in loading a hog into a trailer or the back of a pick-up, you want a sturdy chute leading directly from door to door. What we relied upon instead of such an apparatus was the docility and good-nature of our beloved pig. Big mistake.
We loosed the beast: I guided with my door; Steph goaded with her impromptu whip; El Guapo seemed to comply. We grinned, believing that we, indeed, were naturals. Guappy approached the ramp and pawed at it. We tried to guide him into the truck. Then, a sight that was to occur a great number of times unfolded: we pushed, the pig pushed harder and he escaped. Each escape was more disastrous than the last. On approximately attempt number seven, Stephanie sustained a jammed thumb.
A few attempts later -- with many splashes in the wallow and innumerable poops and pees in between -- El Guapo made his move. We had him pinned against the building, ready to guide him toward the truck again when he turned and made a dash for daylight through Steph's legs. Now, at 5' 4" you wouldn't think hurdling a pig would be too difficult for a former collegiate track runner, but El Guapo was no ordinary pig. His girth and height made this feat impossible.
It ought be interjected that, by this point, the proceedings had become something of an ordeal and patience was beginning to wear thin.
As I was saying, the feat was regrettably impossible. As she lept, he lunged. And all-of-a-sudden, my wife was riding Guappy backwards and, needless-to-say, bare-back across the pig pen. She clung to him valiantly, but his course was charted and his intent malicious. He bucked her lose after roughly 25 feet into the poop end of the pen, where, thanks to torrential downpours in recent days, the sloppy poop was some four to eight inches deep. In one last show of balance, poise and grit, Steph landed with her feet on the fence rail, and hands on the rocks -- narrowly averting the disaster of a most unpleasant face plant.
Having returned from a quick wash up in a nearby five gallon bucket, we redoubled our efforts and started using our brains. We pounded a few fence posts in and positioned a heavy duty pallet and a solid oak door to form a chute. Then we called on the beast one last time. Steph manned the guiding door and I the whip, and with my knees in his rump I pushed the mighty hog into the truck at last. We hastily removed the ramp and guides and closed the tailgate. Predictably, El Guapo stood in the truck grunting placidly, as if nothing had happened, munching on a bit of the sawdust bedding.
The ride and delivery were uneventful, apart from one last Guapo gift... When Steph opened the hatch to the topper to make sure Guappy had survived the trip alright a big poop came flying off the hatch. One last crappy booby trap for our efforts, as if to say, "that was a good trick, too -- eh!?!?"
Thanks, Guap Guap!
His sumptuous pork products will be ready for pick-up in about two weeks when his hams and bacon are smoked. We look forward to tasting the fruit of our labors and remembering our hog bite after delicious bite! We will be selling pork throughout the fall. Be sure to contact us with all of your porcine needs!
This is a shot of the pigs when we picked them up less than four months ago, shivering and scared in the back of the truck.
Here's El Guapo loaded up and ready for his last ride.
This, is our sorry attempt at a ramp and chute. We'll be better prepared next time!
Having returned from a quick wash up in a nearby five gallon bucket, we redoubled our efforts and started using our brains. We pounded a few fence posts in and positioned a heavy duty pallet and a solid oak door to form a chute. Then we called on the beast one last time. Steph manned the guiding door and I the whip, and with my knees in his rump I pushed the mighty hog into the truck at last. We hastily removed the ramp and guides and closed the tailgate. Predictably, El Guapo stood in the truck grunting placidly, as if nothing had happened, munching on a bit of the sawdust bedding.
The ride and delivery were uneventful, apart from one last Guapo gift... When Steph opened the hatch to the topper to make sure Guappy had survived the trip alright a big poop came flying off the hatch. One last crappy booby trap for our efforts, as if to say, "that was a good trick, too -- eh!?!?"
Thanks, Guap Guap!
His sumptuous pork products will be ready for pick-up in about two weeks when his hams and bacon are smoked. We look forward to tasting the fruit of our labors and remembering our hog bite after delicious bite! We will be selling pork throughout the fall. Be sure to contact us with all of your porcine needs!
This is a shot of the pigs when we picked them up less than four months ago, shivering and scared in the back of the truck.
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| Lucky, Dusty, El Guapo (the red one) and Ned |
This, is our sorry attempt at a ramp and chute. We'll be better prepared next time!
As I was reading this exciting entry, my hopes were for a couple of good photos of Steph valiantly riding the beast, although disappointed, the image that was painted of this courageous new design hog loading methodology will be long remembered in all of NW Wisconsin!!
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