Humans…the Other White Meat

I was happily reading articles on the Internet and came across this story about an Oregon farmer who was consumed by his hogs.

This is my worst nightmare realized.

I’m a farm girl. Always have been, always will be. Oh sure, I live in a town now but my roots, my boots, are firmly planted in the moist manure-laden soil of my childhood farm. I loved those days. Some of the best times of my life. I want that for my daughter. Slopping around with barn animals, clomping around in jeans and cowboy hats and feeling like nothing and no one could get in your way. The memories give me a lump in my throat, they were such great times.

Were it not for the pigs.

Sure, we had pigs. I had a pet pig. Her name was Petunia – what the hell would you call your pig – and she was like a big dog with a curly tail and a snout who followed me around the barn and grunted. Docile as the day was long. I loved her.

And then she bit me.

Yes, I was in her stall. Yes, I was messing with her babies. I should have known better. In fact, I think I may have been warned not to go messing with the piglets. I don’t remember. The horror of having a 700 pound sow pig coming at you tends to blur the specifics of the event. But in the end, I remember having a small cut on my stomach and my dad telling me that I was a damn lucky girl that she didn’t eviscerate me. Seriously, eviscerate me. As in take my bowels out and wear them as a necklace. Pigs can do nasty things.

Over the years the scar faded and as I retold the story, it seemed that it was less and less believable. How could a big move so fast? Was it really vicious? Does this kind of thing happen? Oh sure, I’d heard the story from my dentist about Charlie the Pig who ate a cat so I knew the stories were out there. But to actually attack a human? Maybe it was a childhood fantasy.

And then I ran across this story. Sad, horrific even, especially for the poor gentlemen if was alive for any part of the ‘consumption’. But it drove home the point I’ve been trying to make since I was a kid: pigs are murderous. And they have a taste for human flesh. Forget about sharks and rouge circus elephants; pigs are our real enemy.

So my thoughts go out to the family of the Oregon farmer. I hope his sad death serves as a wakeup call for the rest of us. Pigs are not to be trusted. They are to be made into bacon as quickly as possible.

And once the pigs are under control, I’ll tell you the horror of living with a goat.


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