You may recall that we drove to Glen Campbell, back in March, to pick up feeder hogs. Forgive me for not keeping you better informed about their progress. As weanlings they were pretty cute [That’s the funny thing about allometric growth in mammals, all baby things are cute and for good reason.], what do you think now? These Hereford x Berkshire crosses grew extremely well for us and I think they are quite handsome. They have the beautiful brownish-red coat of the Hereford and the bright ‘uppy’ ears of the Berkshire (pure Herefords have floppy (downy) ears). I’m not the best judge of weight but I’d say these will tip the scales at just above or just below 300 pounds, not bad for six month’s growth. There were thankfully no fence-testers in this group and all have stayed put. This has not always been the case and among last year’s feeders there was a single Houdini that charged right through the electrified perimeter fence upon introduction to his pastured enclosure. We chased the little hog for an hour (I’m talking greased-pig-contest) before he disappeared into the woods to the east. We called our neighbor and told him to be on the lookout for an errant pig. Within the hour we heard four tremendous shots ring out and assumed that our kindly neighbor hadn’t taken kindly to a pig on his property. And, that was that. About a week later our neighbor to the west called and asked if we were raising red pigs, we said ‘yes,’ he said that he had one grazing in his backyard. “Oh my!” I thought, “Another one is out.” I went to check the pig pen … one, two, three, four, five … all present and accounted for. The little bugger at the neighbor’s was our errant porker. I said that we’d be right over. We got there within minutes to be greeted by the south-end of a rapidly moving, north-bound, pig. He was out of sight in an instant. And, that was that. Then one evening, another week later (I’m not making this up), we were enjoying our dinner when a little-red-pig sauntered by the large kitchen window. Joanna and I both shrieked and out we ran to view that porcine south end, yet again. The little bugger continued to visit daily to eat drops from under the apple trees. We were determined to capture him. We tried chasing him (it’s never, ever, a good idea to chase a pig – I don’t know what we were thinking). We tried to corner him (another bad idea, pigs can be awfully quick when they want to). We tried netting him (long story, didn’t work, he was way too smart for us and knew which way we were moving before we did). Finally I had set up some livestock netting in such a way as to be absolutely sure he would be caught. I waited. And I waited some more. No pig. Several days later I was feeding the well-behaved pigs (there were five remaining). I counted, one, two, three, four, five … six. Hmm. I counted again, one, two, three, four, five … six. That little so-and-so simply got himself back though the electrified fence and into the enclosure with his buddies. And there he remained. Pretty darn smart little porker – don’t you think?