Pigs can Be Mean

Back on the farm, for some reason, our pigs multiplied. We would separate the little ones after they were old enough and the neighbors would buy them to raise for family nutrition, so to speak. I could out run a pig and found myself in the pen catching up the one the neighbor wanted to buy. The mama pig was against the whole idea. She wanted to keep her family together. I can understand that, but Dad gave the orders around our house.

Mama pigs (sows) can get pretty mean, as I said. They usually just eat and lay around in the mud but given the right circumstances they can launch into a pretty good run and those jaws can break a bone.

I got on her bad side when I grabbed a pig and carried it squealing to the fence for the neighbor. She spotted me when I went after another pig and I got in her sights and she zeroed in on me. I became the centerpiece of her anger. We had a foot race to the fence but the fence with its two strands of bobbed-wire at the top was too tall for me to jump. She was close on my heels so there was no time to climb. I did the only thing I could do. Looking back at the big pig, hog, sow, mad mama, I got as close to the fence as I could and held up both arms. She was coming and had her mouth open wide ready to take vengeance on me for her losses. Just in time I went flying through the air and over the fence out of the reach of those teeth and jaws. Dad had seen my trouble and snatched me out of the hog pen and over the fence to safety.

I've thought of that often. Life is full of trouble and there is not always time for an eloquent prayer. Sometimes we just have to raise our hands for help and trust that the Lord will be there for us.

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