Farm Life: Hog Lot

I want to say something about myself first. I have two degrees, I've studied film production for one and then separately I have a degree in Ethics. I can make movies and I can wax philosophical if you'd like. Also I've lived in New York City and currently live in a major metropolitan area. I just wanted to state that up front, and say that by most accounts I'm a fairly intelligent, forward thinking, modern fellow. Having said that, I used to sleep with pigs. Literally. Maybe I'm not the only one, if you read this and there's a commonality between us let me know.

So, my old man had a pig farm for the better part of my youth and we always kept a few old sows behind the house to toss kitchen scraps to (chicken bones, watermelon rind, hogs will eat anything). You would go out back and see the pigs basking in the sun, sprawled out snoozing away the day, and it seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. For as much as I hate pigs I will give it to them that they know how to relax.

We'll say I'm around seven years old and run it up till I'm about ten. On an odd summer afternoon you could find me lounging in the hog lot, straw as my bed and an old sow as my pillow. Like I said we fed them scraps, you could do it out of your hand, and you could pet some of them, others weren't too friendly. And when they were napping they'd be piled all over each other, one more little body wasn't that much of a concern. I'd be out cold taking a nap like any other 8 year old, only I was right in the middle of two or three coarse haired grunting hogs. All of which had a couple hundred pounds on me. Was it dangerous? To an extent I guess, but my parents were attentive and conscientious, and if they thought it was too dangerous they wouldn't have let me do it.

I stopped doing it at some point. I didn't exactly outgrow it or anything, but the hog operation got bigger and the lot became more crowded. Plus the old sows got sold off and the younger ones weren't as accommodating, in a manner of speaking (pigs can be vicious, if you didn't know).

Now then, that is but one of a great many instances that comprise my life growing up. I'm inclined to think it's not that unique, and there are others who've had a nearly identical experience. Anyway, I think for the next one of these I'll stick with hogs and the more vicious nature of the animals. Only the next story centers on my little brother.