The wiener pig chase

Very few things I have ever felt guilty about where my brother is concerned but oh boy did I this time.

My brother did not like being a farm kid. He wanted to be a big city boy like my uncle he worshiped. He did everything he could think of to get out of doing his work. He would rather be in trouble and grounded then to have to do farm work.

We raised pigs and if you have ever been around pigs you know how hard they are to herd anywhere. About the only thing harder to herd then a full grown pig is a wiener pig. They are like teenagers of the pig family. They are bull headed, want to go anywhere you don’t want them to go and they squeal and make more noise then a party of teens. They also are impossible to catch and if you catch them impossible to hold on too. 

So you get sticks where you look bigger, you sure don’t want to hit one of them with your stick cause all that does is make them run faster the directions they were going even if they have to knock you down to do it.  You wave your stick and yell and holler and hope against hope they will go where you want.

Well the wiener pigs got out, about 20 of them.  The neighbor kids were down to go swimming so when we saw the pigs were out we figured we had enough people it would be easy to get them in. WRONG!  I think it just became a bigger challenge to the pigs.

We rounded them all up and finally got them near the gate and opened the gate. The wiener pigs did not go in the gate, part of the pigs in the pen came out and they all ran off.

We decided someone needed to get in the pen and keep the pigs that were still in there back so they could not get out. Off we go to get the pigs again.  We found out that wiener pigs are hard but if you have the old sows and wiener pigs they don’t’ want to be together and go different directions.  By now we are getting desperate, our swimming time is being taken up by these stupid hogs.

We finally get them near the gate and they start to veer off to the left. Instead of running to turn them my brother just stands there while we yell at him. He says he is suppose to stay at the gate.  The pigs are gone again!!!  Blast it pigs and brother!  We yell at the pigs and we yell at my brother.

We finally get the pigs up there again and they veer to the right. We start yelling and screaming at my brother and making all kinds of threats and he takes off running and all of a sudden he lays down right in the gate no less and off those stupid pigs go again.

By now I am so mad I can hardly see straight and I run up to my brother and I kick him really hard and tell him to get up from there. He doesn’t say anything so I kick him again and once more for good measure. That gets a reaction, a moan and he rolls over and……Oh my God his nose is twice the size it should be. Come on I did not kick him in the head, right between his eyes is black and blue and his eyes are starting to turn blue too and his nose is still getting wider..

Well on a pig fence you always half bury a big log in the dirt under the fence where the pigs can’t dig under the fence the you put two big poles at the end of the log for to hold the gate and take a heavy wire and hook the tow poles together at the top and the bottom and twist them until they are good and tight to hold the poles in place when the pigs rub against them.

Well when he took off running he jumped that half buried pole and wire and caught the top wire right on the bridge of his nose knocking him out cold as a cucumber.

I ran and got dad but I never told anyone about kicking him just about the fence and I am so glad he doesn’t read my blogs.

Guilt is a funny thing, I have not hit my brother since that day but boy have I wanted too but I figure he will find a way to make me guilty about it….