We are terrible farmers. I have always been a terrible farmer, this is not a stretch for me, but it has finally happened. Good farmers don't love their farm animals and make them pets. No, good farmers raise their animals with care, compassion, gentleness, and attentiveness. However, they remember the natural order of things. Good farmers care but don't get attached. We are indeed bad farmers. A little pig has come along and captured all of our hearts. Meet Eugene, he is one of eleven little piglets born to our beautiful red lady, Miss Scarlet. Eugene was doing just fine with his mama and litter mates. He was holding his own. He was not the largest piglet but he certainly wasn't the smallest one either. One morning about a week ago, Eric noticed Eugene wasn't moving very well. He gathered him up, made him a little bed in the heated garage, fed him a bottle, gave him some medicine, and played the attentive nurse maid. Eric and Jordan have slept in the garage on an air mattress for the last two weeks, all because they are afraid they will miss the alarm and not get up to feed the piglets. Personally, I think they just like "garage camping." They have politely extended a half-hearted invitation but I know they are just trying to assuage my wounded feelings. Truth be told, I relish the peace and quiet! I act crestfallen when I dramatically denounce "garage camping" but truly in my overly taxed brain, I am doing a happy dance. I've got a date with Kate Mortan and a glass of Moscato! However, again, I digress.
Back to Eugene, after a week of "garage camping" with Eric and Jordan,Eugene has turned into quite the little attention hog...totally pun intended! It is adorable, when Eugene hears Jordan's voice he gets excited and begins talking and squeaking. He eats better for Jordan, he sleeps better on Jordan's lap, and goes out for walks and "physical therapy" with Jordan several times a day. Now that I am the academic enforcer, the one way to have her read without exasperated eye rolls, and minute long tirades of the injustice of being home with parents who were former teachers...gasp, eye roll, dramatic sigh...is to ask her to read to Eugene. Now, what once was taxing is fun. What once had the appearance of...gasp, WORK...is therapy for Eugene. However, it doesn't end there, oh no dear reader, Jordan is not the only one to have fallen head over heels for Eugene.
Eric, the bibbed wonder, who tells me food tastes better if it's raised with love, has fallen for little Eugene. I told Eric he is more attentive to the piglets than he ever was Jordan when she was an infant. He informs me, he didn't have to be attentive because he had me. He also says he's waiting for me to fall in line with the care of the pigs but let's be honest, I like Kate Morton and Moscato. Eric now gets up every two hours to feed Eugene. I asked to feed Eugene today and I was promptly shut down. I was told I did not understand Eugene's needs. He likes to sit with his bottom on your lap, his front feet on your forearm, and when he is done with his bottle, he likes to snuggle into your armpit and go to sleep. As Eric is demonstrating the proper care and technique of caring for Eugene, he is petting him and crooning, "Oh Eugene, you have to stop this buddy. You're trying to make this difficult aren't you? Who is my little red buddy? Who? Who? That's right, it you."
I play ignorant, but I overhear Eric and Jordan plotting. They intend to teach Eugene to ride on Jordan's electric scooter and when he outgrows that, he will ride on the Ranger. They all three agree...yes, Eugene included... that they need matching pajamas. I'm pretty sure Eugene is going to get a biker jacket and a tutu. I am thinking Eugene is going to be a seven hundred pound pet when it is all said and done. However, this gives me leverage. I'm pretty sure if Eric can justify keeping Eugene, I will never again have to part with a baby goat with whom I've become smitten. Cuddle on Eugene, cuddle on.