Being a part time bartender, Chuck rubbed elbows with a great variety of characters. Among those were some just a little shadier than most.
Chuck was approached by one such gent to do some livestock herding “somewhere in the country”.
I was 19 at the time, and willing to take on most anything, as long as it was legal. “Oh yes” said the gent, it’s all on the up and up.
In Chuck’s big stake-bodied pickup truck, we arrived at the designated and isolated location somewhere in a wooded clearing.
The livestock turned out to be a 250+ pound boar pig, a 300+ pound sow and five strapping piglets weighing in around 30 pounds or so each. To call Chuck and me dilettantes at this sort of undertaking, would be a gross overstatement. We hadn’t a clue or the equipment, but were well-armed with enthusiasm.
It would have been so much simpler had these pigs been enclosed in a small pen, but their “corral” was about 40 by 20 feet, constructed of old wood such as doors, plywood and other scraps.
The piglets were the first to be captured, and they were no small feat. After about 45 minutes of running, jumping, tackling, cussing and squealing, the elusive five were in the truck.
The sow didn’t go quietly. but she wasn’t as quick as the piglets. About a half hour and a lot of muscle put her in the truck bed, and now for the boar.
Chuck was used to dealing with difficult critters as a bartender, truck driver and semi-pro boxer, but I didn’t have such vast experience. This boar turned out to be one very strong, mean, snarling, kicking, biting defender of his right to be left alone. A good hour later with our cargo tied into the back of the truck, two very tired, beat up and bloody “pigboys” headed out. And I must add very smelly, since those pigs had occupied their pen for many days and much of their excrement was firmly plastered all over their captors.
Return To Cookie Thumbs