Murphy’s Law

You know how it goes:  Grandma and Grandpa take the kids overnight, husband goes to work in the morning and there you are, wondering, What shall I accomplish today?  Perhaps I will catch up on laundry . . . and those dirty dishes (how do they keep multiplying?).  No, wait!  A better idea is to go through each child’s dresser and take out all those outgrown clothes.  Oooooh – and stuffed animals.  And toys.  Just take them, toss them into a black bag, and zip over to the thrift store.  The children will never know!  Yes, yes, all those things.  That’s my plan for this morning  –  after I do the Farm Chores.

Usually Zeke helps with the Farm Chores.  He scoops the feed, and I dump it.  It’s a nice system, and on the days when he’s not around, I really do miss the help he provides.  Alas, today, I was on my own.  But no worries, I fed six groups of pigs, fed two groups of chickens and fed one group of cows & goats.  It only took about 40 minutes and I was feeling quite proud of myself.  Until “Murphy’s Law” kicked in.  You know it, the one that goes “if something can go wrong, it will – and at the least opportune time possible.”  THAT Murphy’s Law.

Obie-None decided to take a morning romp.

Loose Pig

See, he’s supposed to be *inside* a fence, not walking through the yard.  But no worries, pigs like feed.  So I grabbed a bucket, dumped in some feed, and offered it to him.  Most pigs would sniff the feed and willingly follow the bucket wherever it leads.  But not Obie-None.  He sniffed the bucket, looked at me, and walked away.  And not toward the pig pen like a good little piggie, oh no.  This guy walked up toward the road.

So, I took a rope from the girls’ rope swing, tied a slip knot and chased this stupid pig around the yard.  I can only imagine the neighbors watching me, laughing.  If it was a loose dog, I’m sure someone would have offered to help me, but a loose pig?  Nope.  I was on my own.

Anyhow, Obie-None stopped to snack on some nice green grass, I reached out, patted him on the back, and slipped the rope under his belly.  I intended to tie a slip knot around his belly and kinda lead him along . . . but this was not to be.  He stepped out of the lasso as I was tightening it, and it snugged up around his neck.  Well, good thing it was a slip knot.  At least, I think it was a slip knot.

Leashed Pig

Doesn’t he look cute?  He looks so domesticated (but remember, he’s not).

They says pigs are as smart as a two-year-old.  I think they are also as stubborn as a two-year-old.  I am so out-of-breath in this clip, and we still had quite a distance to walk (drag).

I had to keep yanking the rope, then getting behind him and shoving.  I could have used a second person.  Like, a 12-year-old boy.  Who it stronger than me.  And faster than me.  And weighs as much as a 150-pound pig.

But I didn’t have that help.  So it was just me, alternating between pulling & pushing, yanking & shoving.  Finally I got him near the gate to the correct pasture.  Obie-None was exhausted – panting hard.  And, lets be honest, I was too.

Stubborn Pig

Then came the fun part.  Hills.  Equipment.  Supplies.  Concrete blocks.  The goat milking stand.  I can’t tell you how long we fought here, but I can tell you we took lots of breaks.  At one point, I thought he was going to pass out (he didn’t, but part of me thinks that dragging a passed-out pig would have been easier than fighting one).  We went up and down, around and through.  We doubled back, we clamored over. When we were taking a break, he heard his buddies grunting in the pasture.  He began grunting back and I thought “Yay, he will go into the pasture and play with his friends.  The struggle is almost done!”  But I celebrated too early.  It seems that the closer we got to the destination, the more I had to fight him.  We stood by the gate for a good 15 minutes, me trying to convince him to want to go through the gate while simultaneously trying to convince the other feeders that they should not want to exit the gate.

So, 75 minutes to this part of the adventure, I yanked him through the gate.  And one might think the adventure ends there, but remember, he has a rope tied around his neck.  A rope that may (or may not be) a slip knot.  I decided to trim the rope, leaving a 4″ tail.  My reasoning is that he will rub and scratch on a tree trunk and loosen the rope.  I hope.

Collar of Shame

Well, at least he has the decency to look properly ashamed of the trouble he created.  Now, I know what the Moms out there are wondering.  No, the morning was not lost.  By the time I got back into the house I still had two full hours to myself.  I showered, rested, did laundry, purged not only stuffed animals but also clothing from all three kids.  On my to pick up the kids at 12:30, I even stopped by the thrift store.  Not bad for a Friday morning!

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