More pig memories.. the first time we saw a wild boar, we were coming home from a party at a friends house about midnight. We turned a corner in the car on our country road and the headlights lit up two very large boar just jogging at the side of the road. Oh – so THAT’S what they look like! Big and black and bristly and hairy with hooves and large front tusks, and small, piggy eyes. We were really glad we were in the CAR at that time and not face to face! *grin*

When the rainy season hits here in the winter, the ground gets soft and lots of grass grows. Before we knew what was doing it, we’d find chunks of grass and turf dug up and overturned in the morning. Then we realized it was wild boar rooting for food – probably bugs and grubs. For some reason, they practically dug this PIT about a foot deep and three feet long by our fence one day – must’ve been smelling SOMETHING good – I hope they got it!

A lot of the ranchers actually do ‘pig hunting’ out here. During that year where a lot of boar were just hanging out, one of the ranchers drove out from the back country along our road, got up to the front gate, we heard a shotgun blast, and after a bit he drove back through. He had a large dead boar on the back of his flatbed pickup. (He was a youngish guy who epitomizes redneck life – he’s often drunk and driving his pickup like a maniac.) As he was driving through (I was out with Merlin at the time), he called, “I just shot a wild boar!” and he was all excited. Merlin, however, didn’t like him, or the smell of him (probably smelled like blood and wild boar) and growled and bared his teeth. The guy had been about to pet Merlin (without thinking or waiting for an invitation – not a good thing to do with Merlin – he’s a great protector dog) and he pulled his hand back so fast I thought he was going to throw his shoulder out of whack. *grin* He continued driving back to his home, and I assume had quite a few pork dinners. Ahhhh, country life.