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The Funny Farm
by Robin Gordon

     

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 Porky and Spanky

A few years after Danny and I were married, he decided we would raise two hogs to butcher.

 

First, we had to build a fence. We bought some locust posts. Danny thought it looked better if we would take the bark off the posts. I was laid off from Kellwood at the time, so it was my job to use the draw blade. For those of you who have never worked with a draw blade, it has two handles with a blade. It can be a very dangerous piece of equipment. Luckily, no one was injured in the bark removal, but the work was very time consuming and a real pain.

 

After the fence was constructed out of metal and wood posts, the barbed wire was put on. Now, I can see why farmers get hired help. After the fence was completed, two cute little piggies were put inside the pen. I named the white pig, Porky, and the red one, Spanky. They were sweet pigs, but, as they got bigger, I realized I was taking my life into my own hands every time I went to feed them. As I would put feed in their trough, they would corner me in the building, and all I could think about was the horror movies where people were fed to the hogs.

 

When the hogs were large enough for Danny’s satisfaction, he decided it was time to call in the Calvary. Jim Snyder and Kenny Cavender, two of Danny’s co-workers from Hildreth’s, brought their pistols to assist. The plan was to shoot the hogs at the same moment, and the butchering would commence, or so we thought.

 

One of the guys shot one second later than the other, and World War 3 began. We had one hog down, but the other (we later called the demonic pig) had one-half acre to run rampant. The fellows were trying to get a good shot on the pig, but I think they fired 20 to 30 shots. The reason I plugged my ears was not from the guns, but from the pigs’ squeals. Finally the war was over!

 

I must say that we ate a lot of pork that winter. We had every variation of pork there was to eat, we were “pigged” out!

 

Next week: A Goat Named Root Beer.

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