Pigs used to be part of my daily life. I’m fond of them. They’re smart, funny, sociable. They’re gourmands instead of gourmets. They’re good company and never turn down a scratch.
I’ll tell you a story about that some day, one of many episodes from the years when I farmed in British Columbia. But the pig I’m thinking about now is not a farm pig. I saw it right here in Kelowna, B.C., just outside my high-rise home.
I have one piece of advice for the pig’s owner: Never try catching a pig by running after it.
You see, I was out for a walk. It was the day Canadians won gold against the U.S. in the final Olympics hockey game. People were in a good mood. They were honking their car horns. The occasional Canadian flag flapped from a motorcycle or a window.
Suddenly I heard the unmistakable squeal of a pig being pursued. I looked up to see two young men in hot pursuit of a pink, pot-bellied pig.
That little boar was a speedster. He raced across the street, along the creek, down a side street, between cars, back along a sidewalk, over the grass, with an unerring sense of how to elude his pursuers.
Tell you the truth, I was rooting for the pig. The owner needs to understand that pigs have delicate feelings. Chasing them scares the bejeebers out of them. Best thing to do is calm down. Offer a treat. Wait for them to come to you.
I don’t know if the guys ever caught that pig. Last view I had put the pig well ahead of his pursuers.
Poor little thing wouldn’t do well on its own in a city. Too many dogs around. So, little piggy…I’m sending you good vibes and hoping your human pal lives in the country, where you have room to be, well, a real pig.