Shall I start all over at the beginning? No, I don't think you need any more history of my pig adventure. Now, when we first got Lola, my awesome friends Jinx and Fern (OK, so they have known me since I was born), came over and saw that sweet little Lola, Jinx said, "I hate pigs". I should have known, Jinx knew, knew what was in my genetic code. He helped my Dad, and Grandpa's on both sides herd cows. He knew I was not a pig person. I should have taken the hint.
Well, we found a pig buyer for Wilbur, an old broken down pig guy who found himself in need of a boar when his keeled over dead unexpected last week. Lucky break for me because the Delta sale was starting to look attractive, even if they were only going for $20 a piece. Unlucky break for us that because he was a broken down old pig farmer the deal required us to deliver Wilbur.
I brought Wilbur here, I've seen him load so easy, I didn't think this would be a problem. We staged the trailer, panels then spent the next 6-7 hours in hell There were several points when I was sure I needed to get my gun and end the misery for all of us. Then like a lightening bolt of inspiration I remembered the teachings of Dr.Pol. Fastening wire snare over the top of his snout definitely got his attention. The wire I had was a little to thin, so handy Scooter did a quick half hitch with some nylon rope and we were finally in business. We managed to drag him into the trailer finally, all except for one hind leg. Erik ran over to get my brother-in-law Jay who came over and added the final muscle we needed to get that stupid pig in the trailer.
Of course once we got him there, he walked out no problem, like he owned the place...
So, back to the beginning, Jinx was right, I hate pigs too.
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