Grandma's sow had a new litter of pigs. The sow had more piglets than she had spouts, teats to feed her litter with. I had watched the birth and her caring for her piglets. However she had this one little runt piglet that was not doing well mainly because he was the runt and his brothers and sisters kept him crowded out of the dining room. My grandma told me that she was going to have to dispose of the runt because it was going to starve to death. I had been watching the sow and baby pigs for several days and had already developed an attachment to the little runt, he was the only one that the sow would allow me to get close to. When my grandma gave me the sad news I asked her right then to give the runt to me. He was so small he would fit in both of my hands and I was only ten or eleven. I brought him home in a cardboard box grandma had given me. My mom got me a baby bottle with the warning that I had asked for him so I was the one that was going to care for him, not her. From that point our adventure began. We made food for him from powered milk, eggs and molasses. We were very poor but we had chickens so the eggs were free and grandpa raised sorghum cane and made his own sorghum so that was also free and powdered milk didn’t cost much. As I began to feed and play with him a transformation took place. He grew and began to get fat like a normal piglet. I named him Sam.
Sam began to grow and when he got just a little larger I learned that he would play with me. He loved to be held and be petted. He would lie upside down in your lap and let you scratch his belly for as long as you cared to. He loved to play tug of war with your fingers which at that time was ok because he didn’t have much in the way of teeth. He never hurt me or got very rough. He seemed to know just how hard he could bite and how hard he could tug on my fingers without causing an injury.
It has been said by some that pigs are smarter than dogs. To this day I believe this is probably true. Given attention and affection my pig Sam developed a personality that was unique. He followed me every where I went. He would nudge my leg when he wanted to be petted. If he could not find me he would begin to squeal. If you have never heard a pig squeal it is a sound that is very quick to grab your attention. Many were the times that Mom would holler "Go get that pig so he will shut up!" He did not like it when Mom made me put him in a pen by the back door instead of by my bed at night but she quickly taught him not to squeal, it took just a few swats with her hand. He was clean, did not smell and over all was a cleaner, better pet than a dog. Yes I did let him in the house to play with and to sleep in a small wire pen by my bed. I know, he was a pig but he was special.
The problem is people don't eat dogs, they do however, eat pigs. We were a poor family and the time came when Mom said "You have to sell him, He weighs two hundred and fifty pounds, I can't afford to feed him pig food and, we don't have enough scraps to keep him healthy!" My tears and pleas were in vain! Mom talked to grandpa and he came with his pickup and loaded him up. Sam actually jumped off of the back porch into the back of the truck to get in with me and grandpa took him away. I never knew where he really went, whether to become a breeder or to be meat I just knew that grandpa took him to the sale barn where they sell livestock. My grandpa told me that there was a good chance he would be bought for a breeder boar because he was such a fine looking hog. Regardless I still missed him terribly. I had the best clothes for school that year that I had ever had, I guess mom must have felt a little guilty. I didn't enjoy those new clothes though; I couldn’t forget where the money had come from. Maybe having raised and loved Sam at such a young age is why today I still find myself wanting a pet even at times when my life style tells me that I don’t really need one, and why I find it so hard to part with them what ever the circumstances. A pet become a part of you when you invest time, effort and love in them.
Some time ago my lovely wife Julie told me that I should write the stories she has heard me tell because some day I will no longer be here and those stories would be lost. So even though I personally do not see that these stories are anything special I am attempting this endeavor.
How to leave a comment on this blog.
If you open the individual stories from the links on the right side of the page you will find a comment box beneath each story. You can also open the comments box by clicking on the "Comments" link at the end of each story. I would love to hear your thoughts about the story, my writing style and/or any constructive criticism you may have.
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