jmgoyder

Before replacing my pig passion with birdiness, and before Mathilda experienced her growth spurt, I purchased another little piglet – Vegemite – who happened to be Mathilda’s half-sister. This worked out beautifully because our dogs (two miniature – yes miniature – dachschunds) hated Mathilda, so she was a bit lonely. Mathilda and Vegemite adored each other.

However, it wasn’t long after the above picture was taken that both pigs became bored with simply nibbling grass and began to dig and I mean DIG! For those of you tempted to get a pet pig, let me tell you pigs dig; they dig with their snouts and they dig fast. In the space of a few seconds Mathilda and Vegemite would dig holes the size of small craters. I could have planted a forest if I had wanted to.

So, in the face of Husband’s and Son’s fury, I was forced to put them in the chook pen which, because it was winter and raining, soon became a dam of sorts. When noone was looking, I would let them out to free range with explicit instructions not to dig, but to them a patch of pristine lawn was like a gift, so confining them to the pig pen (the chooks had moved out) became the norm.

And, yes, Vegemite also grew rather big, so when the pig farmer took Mathilda, he also took Vegemite. But their largeness was to their advantage because the first thing the farmer said was “bloody hell, they’re way beyond slaughtering – meat would be too tough – I’ll use them for breeding.” I tried not to appear too shocked because it hadn’t occurred to me that he might want to eat them!