The Regina George of Porcine Society
Updated: Sep 18
Picking on someone smaller than you and making them squeal is a jerk move no matter what your species. I have become very protective of Eric’s three little pigs, Rose, Dorothy, and Blanch…I still regret not pushing the issue of a fourth so we could have a complete set…every barnyard needs a Sofia. In past blogs, I have expressed my disdain for all things porcine. From their rude, rudimentary behavior, to their aggression in establishing a pecking order, to their inability to be insulted and their large intimidating size, I have no great love for pigs. However, these three Large Black Hog ladies are different and endearing.
The breed itself is docile, laid back, and pleasant to have in our farm family. These three ladies appear to be even more pleasant, friendly, and attention loving than most. While my goats were visiting the pasture across from the barn, the three little pigs were rooming with them. My goats have no love for pigs either. They either run like scared children facing a huge, intimidating monster or they head butt them…mostly they run. It was different almost instantly with the three girls. They have an uncanny ability to fit in with my goats and everyone got along wonderfully.
However, once summer camp was over, the girls returned to their beloved barn and pasture and the three little pigs had to stay put. You see, with the mama pigs having babies, they would be even less welcoming than usual to interlopers. It simply would not be safe to introduce Rose, Dorothy and Blanch to the rest of the porcine crew. However, with The Bibbed Wonders never ending parade of piglets, the girls would have to be in with the market pigs. This was an anxiety causing situation for us. Pigs are ruthless when it comes to dominance. There are times when they are even cruel to their own litter mates and they have to be separated. However, we had limited options and this seemed like the safest option for the girls.
Things went well for the first day. The market pigs seemed more concerned with their new pasture and housing than they did the three little pigs. There is a rather large expanse of pasture, room for all, food for all, and water is plentiful and in different areas. They should have been able to avoid each other but that was not going to happen. Once the leader of the market pigs discovered the three new members of farm yard society, she was like Regina George in Mean Girls, relentless, conniving, and a bully.
I have taken to keeping an ear open to the side field and when I hear a little pig squeal, I arm myself with a large stick and go running. Regina thinks nothing of marching up to the three little unsuspecting pigs while they bask in the sunshine, spooning with each other and trying to enjoy some quiet time. She will bite their ears, run them down, and bite on their little black tails as they run away. Rose has a bite mark on her side. Blanch has a bite mark on her bottom and poor Dorothy had a bite mark on her belly. Enough is enough, it was time to create a safe zone for the three little pigs.
My bibbed wearing buddy spent all day Monday creating an electrified fenced area inside the pasture. The opening is too short for the market pigs to make it under without getting shocked. The little girls have their own feeder, access to the stream, and a portable yurt all their own. They can also come and go as they please if they decide to interact with the market pigs. Regina George is like a vulture circling its prey. She hangs out by the entrance just waiting for one of the little girls to step out and then she makes her move. I will not feel bad when Regina is a pork chop.
Until all the market pigs go to said market, the little girls have a safe, Regina George free zone. I usually feel bad about the pigs going to market but this time, not so much. It’s just not cool to pick on someone less than half your size, no matter what species you belong to.
Until next time dear reader, stay safe, stay smart, protect the world from the Regina Georges and of course wash your hands.