My farrier, Mike is brave guy! He comes out in the bitter cold to spend time with my horses and Dunkay who run as soon as they see his truck pull up. Mike means trimmed hooves, something all farm animals dread, especially the goats. They know Mike, his truck and his tools. Sierra and Dillon hide behind the barn until all is clear of any signs of ‘The Hoof Man‘..
While Mike was pulling and tugging on Sparky’s back leg he told me a funny story about Miss Piggy, a 300 pound pot belly pig that was raised inside an English woman’s home from the time she was 5 lb piglet to an oversized and spoiled Sow.
Mikes story (with my help)….
Years ago, Mike was called to a small farm just south of Addie Acres to trim the feet of a pot belly pig named Miss Piggy. Mrs. Brackston came from England and spoke in a heavy English accent. Her husband of 40+ years was a drunk so she adopted a tiny pink piglet for companionship, naming her Miss Piggy . Mrs. Brackston raised her little girl inside the house giving her the princess treatment and full run of their humble home nestled in the middle of dense woods . Miss Piggy was potty trained like a dog and would oink at the back door to be let out. Well the farmer who trimmed Miss Piggy’s hooves retired and gave her Mikes phone number. Later that week, Mike and his father ventured out to do what they believed would be an easy foot job! Not to be! Mrs Brackston answered the door in an outdated flowered night jacket, hair in curlers, a cigarette dangling from her bright red lipstick mouth. She greeted them in her heavy accent, forcing both men to turn their heads in her direction trying to understand her words. She escorted them into a dimly lit living room where they found Miss Piggy laying on a brand new tan with blue stripes couch watching TV. As Mike and his dad approached Miss Piggy, she jumped off the couch and ran to the back of the smoke filled house, squealing all the way. All three chased the scared animal into the master bedroom, doing circles around the un-kept bed until they cornered her in the closet. Miss Piggy does not like to have her feet touched and wasn’t about to let two strange men anywhere near her! She barreled through the middle of the human blockage, pushing her frantic mother down onto the wood floor. She ran into the kitchen knocking over a table or two along the way sending magazines and ashtrays flying through the air, pooping and screaming as she went. Mrs Brackston was very upset and tried to coax the now shivering pig that was still relieving herself on the floor to come snuggle into her outstretched arms. Miss Piggy wanted nothing to do with her or anyone else and waddled back to the couch, slipping out of Mikes attempted grasp as she quickly shoved past him. The pig now has her 300lb body on the very top of the couch, still relieving herself in fear! Both men lunged at her and was able to grab onto Miss Piggy as her mother yelled out encouraging words through tears trying to calm the pig. Mike held her down as his dad hurriedly trimmed each foot without making them bleed. The frightened pig yelled so loud that they wrapped a fuzzy wool blanket around her head to help muffle the unbearable squealing! After what seemed like an hour, her feet were finally manicured. The exhausted men collapsed on the couch, staying away from the fresh brown and yellow stains. Miss Piggy ran into the spare bedroom where her bed was kept and buried herself under her teddy bear blanket. Mrs Brackston was pleased at the outcome, praising them for a job well done as she causally mopped up after her baby. She promised that next time, she will give Miss Piggy a full bottle of beer to help her sleep through the next trimming. Mike said it didn’t work. When they came back 6 months later, the drunk pig jumped off the couch weaving it’s way into the master bedroom closet relieving herself along the way. His dad refused to go back with him after that and Mike was forced to struggle with Miss Piggy alone as Mrs Brackston cried out her anguished words of encouragement to a panicking pig for the next 3 or 4 years
We have a small hill by the garage that faces the barn and the animals like to eat the grass up there. Well it’s been snowing allot making the pasture very icy. The horse and donkey droppings have now become hard rocks that stick up like tiny mountains hiding under the snow to trip me. Any who….Dunkay was pawing for grass under the crusty blanket on the slanted side of the hill, ignoring me since I didn’t have any grain in my hands. I yelled out to him, “Dunkay, what ya doing up there” he turned and looked at me, he then proceeded to come down so he could greet me, his favorite human. Because of the ice, he started to lose his footing, sliding towards me with his legs doing the cartoon act, you know where you all you see is a circle of legs going around and around but they aren’t moving? I’m standing there watching him slide towards me, no traction under his hooves that are pumping thinking a hundred thoughts per second like, “oh no, do I run? Do I try to stop him? Will he knock me down if I can’t move away fast enough? Is he going break a leg? Is he going to die? Am I going to die? Where’s Chad when you need him?!” I spread my legs a bit, bend down a little and put my arms out, sorta like a baseball catcher, only in pink, hoping to catch a 300 pound donkey. What am I nuts? I come to my senses within seconds and step aside and let him slide past me. After he got his footing, he looked at me with a grin on his face! I believe he actually enjoyed himself!
When Chad and I started our little farm almost 5 years ago, we were as green as green gets! Chad did have a few years growing up on a farm when he was a boy. My dad was born and raised on 48 acres raising dairy cows in Kansas. Every summer my folks would pack up us kids and we would spend 14 fun filled hours in a car driving to KS to visit relatives and get some farm experience! Well, even thou my father hated farm life, it must have rubbed off on me because as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of having horses and other critters! Unfortunately, life does a detour forcing your dreams to take a back seat until the time is right. My time came when the Lord opened a door for us to live on a llama farm that was already well established in Laporte. Our first 2 Llamas were given to us by dear friends, I had our horses, Laci & Sparky on ‘lay-away’ until I could pay them off (yes you really can put a horse on lay-away!). Chad and I started this adventure together even thou some family members objected. We both felt like it was God’s will for us to start our own little farm, making it a blessing for young family’s with little ones. Our herd has grown from 2 llamas and 2 horses up to 4 llamas, 1 alpaca, a donkey, 2 goats, our original horses, various chickens, 3 quackers and too many barn kitties, not to mention the escaped bunnies who are now helping the wild rabbit population go from basic brown to funny spots and droopy ears! We talk quite a bit about how different things could have been for us when the kids were growing up if we had the farm 14 years ago with all of Gods creatures, big and small a few feet away. I am so blessed to be here and I try not to take what God has given us for granted. I’m looking forward to sharing all this with many grandchildren. We hope to be the fun grandparent’s that are considered cool and have the ‘must-go-to’ place in the eyes of a child! A home where the next generation will always be safe, happy and drama free! We both desire that the days with Baba and G-pa, imprint sweet memories in the hearts of all our grandkids for years to come!
Oh what a wonderful morning! The first thing I usually do is open my curtains to spy on the animals to see if they are being naughty or nice! This morning they have decided to be naughty! I see Sweetie our black Llama in the front field, where she is NOT suppose to be! NOT A GOOD SIGN! I quickly get dressed and run out the non-stop swinging door, which I seem to be doing allot lately. I can now see Sparky, the Tank and Dunkay in the Llama field, a very bad sign. I don’t see our boy Llama Stormy, Sammie or Lincoln, an ‘Oh NO’ sign! I sprint to the barn where I hear two Llamas fighting and Lincoln my Alpaca is now running to the back field screaming…I didn’t know Alpacas can scream! It’s an eerie sound, nothing like their warning call. In the barn are two full grown male Llamas that out weigh me by 150 pounds each, fighting, making sounds that would make a grown man stop and back away praying that they don’t see him! I have to form a plan, quickly. Do I let them fight their way out of the barn or do I yell like a crazy lady waving my arms outside where people can see me? I yell. They both stop, look at me, look back at each other, then back at me. I swear they both had a look of amusement on their faces. After sharing a laugh between themselves, they decided to go back doing what boy Llamas do best…fight. I gave up. I trudged my way through the thick mud to the back field and chased 2 horses and a donkey back into their own pasture. Meantime Lincoln is in the corner of the fence panicking, wailing out his distress sounds. Both goats are in the barn hiding under the food bin and the kitties are going about cat business, they want to be fed…now! Stormy decided that he had had enough of Sammy and searches for Lincoln which got him out of the barn. He galloped over to where Lincoln was trembling then chased him along the fence. A grunting Llama with his head close to the behind of a screaming Alpaca! Oh where was my camera! While those two were running back and forth, it gave me a chance to herd both girl Llamas into the side yard with the promise of tasty grain. Lincoln runs back to the barn with an angry Llama snipping and spitting close behind! By the grace of God, I got Sammy & Lincoln into a pen (where the goats were hiding) and shut the gate to keep Stormy our boy Llama from biting them! Now I have 2 girl Llamas in one field, 2 horses and a donkey in another with an unhappy boy llama running from barn to pasture where his girls are. Now all I have to do is trick 3 Lamas into their own territory! HA! With a cup full of desirable grain, a slide of the hand on the gate, along with a few herding tricks that involves out stretched arms mixed with my own animal noises, they are back where they belong! I shut everybody into their rightful places and inspect for damage inside the barn. Not too bad, they didn’t consume all the grain, 2 hay bales were toppled, the chicken and cat food I left out last night had been eaten and only 2 piles of horse poop in the main area. I gave the horses their pills and fed chickens along with kitties, I scolded everybody for being bad boys and girls which doesn’t do me any good, they only stare back with a blank expression. I will keep a close eye on the herd today. If they worked the inside gate open once, they will surely do it again.
We stood up our decorations, he would knock them down and then push them around with his nose!