Pig in a poke
2004-11-08

Just when I think my life can't get any stranger, some how it manages. I'm pretty use to the strange and stranger occurances, but sometimes the truely bizzare still manages to take me by surprise. Yesterday was one of those days.
Most of you who read here on a regular basis know we have a boat chartered in the BVI's in February. It seemes we book a trip every time I am about to lose my job. Perfect timing no? Well the couple we're going with invited a third couple. Nice folks, they'll probably fit in fine, but they are not sailors. To top it off, the wife is a bit claustrophobic. Sailboats, even big ones are NOT the Ritz Carlt0n.
Well, before they make the final decision, they agree they should at lease SEE a sailboat. Good decision. Convieniently I have a boat. The four of them agree to meet me at noon. Well, I have stuff to do so I get there early, take out the table, and winterize the water system, typical boat puttering.
12:00 comes and goes and there is no sign of them. I move on to other projects. Finally at 12:30 I get a call, wondering were I am. Um duh, on the boat. Well the boat isn't here. Um, yes, I assure you it is, and I am indeed on it. OH, when did you get a white sail cover? Three years ago... You helped me put it on. Oh, yeah, I forgot. That's how it started.
The people liked the boat and brought down a bottle of grapes which we promptly killed along with a few more from my stock. Ken drank scotch, lots of scotch and they all left happy. I like happy.
That all was a little weird right, but nothing major. Then the cell phone rings. It is M.E. and she is frantic. There is a huge black pig in the yard and come home right away. Yeah, right. We live in the suburbs. Yes it is wooded, but there are no wild pigs, no goats and nary a giraffe to be found. But, like the good husband that I am I drive home immediuately to find out what kind of pills or booze or houshold chemicals the lady has been into. Somebody had to...
I open the garage door and she shuts it immediately behind me. She has since called her sister. This is not a good thing. Ro, barely knows what a tree is and gets all her wildlife information from animal planet. She convinces M.E. that there is a wild killer boar in the yard which will kill the dog iof given a chance and likely disembowel us too. Nice... Yeah, right... Of course by the time I arrive this mutant killer attack boar is no where to be found.
I open the basement door to bring in the boat table and all of a sudden hear grunts, M.E slams the door and into the yard waddles in a hundred pound or so black pot bellied pig. What the hell?
M.E. is screaming for me to run, so I do what every self respecting husband does, I ignore her and start calling here piggy, piggy, piggy and it comes over to see me. WEIRD! It is eating the bird seed unter our feeder. I try to feed it some carrots, but apparently it is a fussy pig.
I head over to the neighbors to find out the scoop. Apparently it has been around for about a week and they feel it was dumped along the highway by an owner that is no longer interested. It doesn't like carrots, but will eat bananas right from your hand and the lady up the street will take him in if we can catch him. Um, OK..
By the time I get back he has wandered off so I head out to do grocery shopping. As I turn the corner up the street, what jumps out in front of me but the pig. I swerved, hit the brakes and just missed making 65 pounds of bacon.
One of the neighbors is jogging towards the house, I stop and give her a pig alert. She looks at me like am crazy. Maybe I am? I get back in time to see a whole crowd of people looking into our yard. The pig posse has arrived. There are half a dozen folks armed with a closeline ready to have a pig round up. What could I do but join in.
We cornered him several times but to no avail. I found out that A: I am faster than a pig and B: My legs are in great shape. I ran on and off for almost an hour and never got winded or tired. Unfortunately, neither did the pig. We gave up as apparently pigs are very difficult to lasso and clothesline does not a great larriat make.
So now there is still a semi-wild pig roaming the neighborhood and we don't have a plan. The animal control won't come and get him and temperatures are supposed to drop like a stone in the middle of the week. Any suggestions from my friends in pig country?
On a more mundane note, I have to call unemployment reapply. I also have to get some resumes out there and call my local head hunter. Sigh... I guess if things get really bad, we could always live on pork chops for a while. Except M.E has already started calling him Arnold, sigh. Anybody got a banana?
Happy Monday world.
Ron

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