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My Account
By Sally Treadwell, Published 01/22/2016

Vol. 2, No. 2 

A few short years ago, I was a retailer going into the Christmas season with a sinus infection. I invariably suffer from sinus problems, so this wasn’t unusual. I had no energy, but coming home one evening from the doctor with my husband, I told him I needed to go across the road to see my Amish friend Barbie. I just needed to share a quick message with her.

It was early December, and darkness falls so early at this time of year. Blackness enveloped our truck as we passed onto the road. Suddenly, our headlights beamed upon a pig that was standing on the road, blocking our way. I had to run that thought through my brain again…what was it on the road? Oh yes, a PIG! My husband Ken honked the horn, and the pig grudgingly moved out of our way and walked back up the path to the enclave of farms that four different family members own. Both Ken and I turned to look at each other, and said, “Was that really a pig on the road?” So he parked the truck while I ran out to get Barbie.

I did a knock-and-burst-open-the-door, and yelled in a much louder voice than normal, “Barbie! You’ve got a pig loose!” To which she answered, completely unphased, “Well, is it our pig?” I answered, “How the heck would I know if it’s your pig? It was on the road!” So she ran out the door, grabbing a coat as she went. I quickly followed. Her husband Elmer hadn’t come home yet from work.

There he was—all 300 pounds of him—standing his ground, looking rather defiant. Barbie confirmed the pig was indeed hers and pointed in the direction of the pen. We’ve been friends for years, and I never knew she and her husband kept pigs. There was never a reason for me to climb that particular hill before. Until now.

Other pigs, other time
Other pigs, another time

She indicated that we needed to herd him, but that pigs were notoriously stubborn. She warned me that I might not be up for this challenge. I vowed no, I was her friend, and I was absolutely going to help her with this creature. To this day, I have no earthly idea where Ken went. So it was Barbie and me versus the porker.

She went to open the pen. When she left, I stared down my porcine nemesis. He unflinchingly looked at me, and this girl from the city thought I could actually read the pig’s thoughts. He seemed to be gauging his chances at outmaneuvering me. He took a step; I took a step. He took off up another hill, away from the pen, FAST, and I had actually to outflank this bacon-maker. By now I was sweating inside my coat, hat, scarf, and glove ensemble, both from the physical exertion and from the adrenaline. He tried it again. This pig was running me around in circles! And I, who was suffering from a nasty sinus infection!

Finally, Barbie returned and saw we were getting nowhere. So she got the bright idea to grab some milk from her cousin’s barn and lure the pig back into the pen by dripping a trail of milk. It worked! We must have been on this chase for 30 minutes, and after I had lost the adrenaline rush, I realized I was not in good shape. I’m not even sure I gave her whatever message I’d originally had for her.

So I found Ken near the truck, went home, and noticed I was pretty soaked with sweat after I got indoors and removed my coat. He took great care of me, got me warm, and fed me some dinner. The next morning I spiked a fever and started a bad cough. Sometime after Christmas my sinus infection had grown into full-blown pneumonia. Thankfully, I was never hospitalized for it. Two series of potent antibiotics, lots of rest, and about six weeks got me through.

But I will never forget how little old me, a stranger to livestock and originally a city girl, chased down a pig and caught pneumonia. We actually did get 3 pounds of sausage in the spring, so I suppose I got my revenge!

Like pigs?  Check out our Pig Leather Door Hanger with Two Sleigh Bells

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