Pig Tales From Across the Pond

I picked the first piglet up and it made the usual high-pitched, “leave me alone” squeal. My instincts at this point caused me to take a glance back at the breakfast table. I am sure my eyes must have become wide, as this small, somewhat innocuous noise, had been similar to the starters gun in the one hundred yard dash at the Olympic Games. The race was on, with six sows barreling towards me being lead by 3452, only the race had already gone from fifty yards down to about twenty-five, and I was a little late out of the blocks! I banged my head on exiting the hut, piglet still in hand, and went to the only place available with such short notice . . . on top of the hut! I had scrambled to what appeared to be a seemingly safe spot as the marauding group of sows approached. Blackie makes an initial leap to see if she can get a piece of me and in the process leaves some snot and froth on a vulnerable area of naked lower leg. At this point I felt a little like a man stuck on a small island, surrounded by man eating sharks. My enemies did a couple of circles around the hut then two sows decide to go inside, causing the hut to become somewhat unstable for a few moments, before 3452 claimed her three remaining pigs and the intruding sow was sent packing! As the heat of the moment subsided I quickly did my business on the piglet I had stolen and then managed to return it to its rightful owner, without losing a limb! Not wanting to admit defeat with the remaining three piglets, I managed to process them at a rate of one per day, until I finally got them all done. It proved quite a challenge, but in the ongoing battle of man versus pig, on this occasion . . . man had won!