No 21

No 21

With Weaver warming to me with the new dog free late evening slot , I was reminded of another animal I possessed with a somewhat bad tempered nature

I will repeat the story of Number 21
The rather sweet photo of the piglet on my side bar somewhat intrigued a follower recently and they wanted to know more about her and why I had celebrated her in such a way.
They may be surprised to find out that Number 21 was a pure monster.

Some years ago now , after some weeks preparation I came home with two piglets in the back of the old berlingo. The little boar was a perky saddleback and the sow piglet was a feisty Gloucester old spot.
I planned to fatten both up for the table.
From the get go, I was determined not to get attached to the two of them and so always referred to both by their ear tag numbers.
It was not hard not to get attached to number 21.
She was a real bitch.

Where Number 12 grew into a massive, benign six footer teddy bear of a pig Number 21 developed clear psycopathic tendencies . Mercilessly she bullied her sty mate, nipping and biting him away from any tidbit that I or the neighbours threw for them and over a two month period she caught and ate at least twelve chickens who were stupid enough to wander into her enclosure. ( I had put the losses down to a fox until I actually saw her attack and rip to pieces a sleepy buff Orpington who had chosen to sunbathe in the wrong place.


When she was fully grown I refused to enter the sty without a pig board or a stick for protection for where Number 12 would nibble my fingers playfully as I stroked him Number 21 would try to take great chunks out of my wellies , thighs and buttocks when the mood took her.

I was constantly paranoid about her and the dogs as I had no doubt that if she caught one of them she would have killed them within seconds and this fear was substantiated by the sight of her once disembowelling a newly deceased female turkey called Gloria, a body that I lowered into the sty at 8 am one morning and one that had totally disappeared ( beak, feathers and feet included) by noon.
I shed a small tear when Number 12 wandered good naturedly into the abattoir in Denbigh a year to the day after he arrived.
I didn't miss Number 21 at all.
But she sure did taste good!

No 12 and 21