I usually picture a pig as being lazy and just laying around in mud. Not so, my friend. Pigs are pretty fast when they need to be. Especially when they're trying to avoid being stabbed. And like my brother-in-law, SonofaDutch, always says, "Not Getting Stabbed Is Always A Plus."
Let me take you on a trip down memory lane. My first and only pig encounter happened when Superfrydad & I were dating. I was 17 and was
For some reason, he asked me to go.
For some reason, I said yes.
Let me preface this with saying that I do not have a love for animals. However, my love for Superfryboyfriend (aka SFBF) blinded me into thinking that maybe giving a pig a shot would be a fun date.
The pig wasn't really your typical wee little piggy. Think cow, only with shorter legs and a curly tail. I don't know how much she weighed, but she was a big mama. And she had an attitude.
A giant pig with an attitude is one thing.
A giant pig with an attitude trying to get away from you while you try to stab her with a needle is a whole nother thing.
I'm getting ahead of myself. See, I thought when SFBF asked me to go with him, that I would just be watching him give the pig a shot. Because giving pigs shots is a man's job, right? Watching from outside the pen so you don't step in pig poop is the girlfriend's job.
So that's what I did. I watched from outside the pen while SFBF chased the pig around and finally stuck her with the needle, which BROKE OFF when he stabbed her.
Guess what the pig said?
Nothing. She just squealed like a demon pig and then ran around with a little bit of blood trickling down her shoulder. (or should I say ham? whatever.)
So now we have giant demon pig with an attitude who just got stabbed and is not a happy camper. In fact, if pigs could do karate, I'm pretty sure she would have Chuck Norrised us both.
Superfryboyfriend's solution?
His plan went like this: Chase the pig into a corner and block her there. Then give her the shot quickly, taking care not to break the needle, and let her go on her merry way.
Simple enough. Except for the fact that what we had to use to corner the pig was a door.
That's right, a door. Because everyone knows a giant wooden door is easy to carry around and manuever in close quarters with a crazy pig.
And the person manuevering the door? Me.
If he asked me to do that today, I'd laugh and go back and sit in the truck.
However, since I was young and
The pen was big enough that the pig could run around and get away from us, but small enough that if she wanted to attack, there was nowhere to escape.
I'm pretty sure that if there had been a video camera running, we could possibly have won $10,000 on AFV. Maybe even the super prize of $100,00 and a Disney cruise. It was that glorious. Arms, legs, straw, poop, squealing, a needle and a door.
So now whenever Superfrydad tries to insinuate that my love for him is not up to par in some way, I just remind him that one time I helped him give a pig a shot and actually counted it as a date.
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