Babe Rescued or Not?

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Growing up on a farm taught me to love and respect animals. I rode horses and showed cattle. I judged cattle, sheep and pigs in 4-H. Admittedly, I winged it on the sheep and pigs. There were no sheep on our farm and the few hogs quest starred at Easter dinner. It has been many years since I spent any quality time with farm animals. The halls of higher education I walked did not include live animals. I raised guide dogs and my own pets. My daughter had hamsters and guinea pigs. A life without livestock.

Imagine my surprise when I past a potbellied pig loose in my neighbor’s yard. Resplendent in a Christmas sweater. Being the animal lover I am I stopped to help. The pig who I will call Babe seemed friendly enough as she snorted her way from yard to yard. Try asking a neighbor if they know whose pig roamed the street. I received several strange looks until they spotted Babe.

We drew quiet a crowd unfortunately not the owner. I found an open gate. Knocked and got no answer. Studying the yard, I found a garbage can knocked over and signs of freshly turned soil. Babe sported similar soil on her nose. I knew coaxing Babe down the street and into the yard wouldn’t be easy.

Growing up on a farm taught me to love and respect animals. I rode horses and showed cattle. I judged cattle, sheep and pigs in 4-H. Admittedly, I winged it on the sheep and pigs. There were no sheep on our farm and the few hogs quest starred at Easter dinner. It has been many years since I spent any quality time with farm animals. The halls of higher education I walked did not include live animals. I raised guide dogs and my own pets. My daughter had hamsters and guinea pigs. A life without livestock.
Imagine my surprise when I past a potbellied pig loose in my neighbor’s yard. Resplendent in a Christmas sweater. Being the animal lover I am I stopped to help. The pig who I will call Babe seemed friendly enough as she snorted her way from yard to yard. Try asking a neighbor if they know whose pig roamed the street. I received several strange looks until they spotted Babe.
We drew quiet a crowd unfortunately not the owner. I found an open gate. Knocked and got no answer. Studying the yard, I found a garbage can knocked over and signs of freshly turned soil. Babe sported similar soil on her nose. I knew coaxing Babe down the street and into the yard wouldn’t be easy.
I’ve heard you can’t herd chicken’s. Pigs may fall into the same category. Babe’s new legion of friends declined to grab her collar. I stepped up and herded her towards the gate. She reluctantly moved forward and when she got near the gate ran through it. Babe was now safely inside a yard. Her yard I can only hope. Imagine those peoples surprise if she isn’t there’s.
I’ve heard you can’t herd chicken’s. Pigs may fall into the same category. Babe’s new legion of friends declined to grab her collar. I stepped up and herded her towards the gate. She reluctantly moved forward and when she got near the gate ran through it. Babe was now safely inside a yard. Her yard I can only hope. Imagine those peoples surprise if she isn’t there’s.

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About Casey Knight

Professor, author, mother, and nature lover.
This entry was posted in Family, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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