Chapter 5 ~ The Pig in the Kitchen

The children named the pig Arnold.  That he was named after the pig on the TV show, Green Acres didn’t make my father any happier.  He was offended.  His father – my Grandpa Scotch – was named Arnold.

As time went on, however, even my father had to admit that Arnold was one smart porker.  He recognized his name and came when called.  He frequently outsmarted and out-maneuvered the dog, much to her chagrin and frustration.  But perhaps the greatest feat of intellectual prowess came the night it snowed.

It had been a frosty 20 degrees that night.  Carmon awoke early and went outside to check on the livestock which, at that time, consisted of several New Zealand Giant breeding rabbits and Arnold.  The rabbits lived in pens in a partially enclosed rabbit house out back.  The bottom half of its wall was made of wood; the top half was made of wire screening.  Arnold had the run of the yard during the day, but at nighttime, he slept at one end of the rabbit house, under the rabbits’ pens.  This gave him some protection from the wind and cold, but it was no match for below freezing temperatures and snow. 

Carmon wasn’t too worried about the rabbits.  After all, each hutch had a ramp that led to a nesting box deep under the ground.  The rabbits spent a lot of time in those nesting boxes whenever the weather was excessively hot or cold.  But a little sleek pig was another story entirely.  What had the cold done to Arnold? 

The gray light of dawn was just giving way to pale pink when all of us rushed out into the yard to see what the freeze had done.  Carmon unlocked the rabbit house door and we all jammed ourselves through it.  Sure enough, there wasn’t a rabbit in sight.  They were all snuggled down in their warm nesting boxes.  We looked again; there wasn’t a pig in sight either.  Where was Arnold?  He had no warm nesting box in which to snuggle.  Had he dug under the fence and run away?

Frantically, the children called out his name.  A reassuring oink reached our ears, but from whence had it come?  We still couldn’t see him.  The children called his name again and louder.  Again we heard the oink.  Following the direction of the sound, Carmon shined a flashlight toward the back of the shed.  The only sight that met our gaze was a stack of empty rabbit feed sacks stored there.  Then one of the feed sacks moved and a tiny snout appeared under its edge.  

We all rushed to the back of the shed.  There was Arnold, warm and snug.  He had dug out a pig-sized hollow in the dirt at the back of the shed where the ground was sandy.  He had then methodically shredded several empty paper grain sacks into pieces no larger than a half-inch square, leaving two bags whole.  After this was complete, he settled himself in his homemade bed, fluffing the shredded paper around him until all but his head was covered.  Finally, he had dragged the two intact grain sacks over the hole, covering every inch of his body with the exception of the end of his snout, which he’d left free for breathing. 

How did we know that was what he had done?  Because after he’d greeted us and eaten his breakfast, he crawled back into his warm little nest and we watched him do it.  So when anyone tries to tell me that pigs are stupid, I can say with the authority born of experience, “I beg to differ.  At least one pig I knew was the smartest animal on the farm.”

~ ~ ~

Arnold wasn’t just smart; he was sociable.  He loved the children and would follow them around the yard just like a puppy.  He liked to have his belly scratched, and when he grew to be quite large, he could become a real nuisance about that.  After all of that, it was hard to keep him down on the farm.  Looking back on it, I truly believe that Arnold didn’t know he was a pig.  I’m sure he thought he was one of the kids and his mamma just dressed him funny!  In later years, when my children took their own children to see the movie “Babe” none of them had any trouble believing that a heroic little pig could do everything the movie showed him doing.

One of the funniest events involving Arnold would never have happened had I not decided to go back to college.  I had always wanted to be a teacher and so despite having a home, husband, and children to care for, I enrolled at the university.  My mother watched my youngest and I took classes while the three older children were in school.  I got home from my classes about the same time the children got home from theirs.  It was difficult to get any studying done with four children underfoot, so I would often get up at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning to do my homework.  I got a lot accomplished this way, but it did mean that I needed to do some careful editing of any papers written in this manner.  It’s always amazing to me how awful an idea can look in the cold light of day when it seemed absolutely brilliant at 2:00 A.M.!

I was, therefore, most appreciative when my friend, Vera, volunteered to go over my papers with me.  Vera was a former high school English teacher who edited with the proverbial fine-tooth comb.  As mentioned, I was really grateful for this service, but I was always a little in awe of her - a throwback, I’m sure, to the respect with which I’d held my own high school English teachers.  One day, Vera had offered to drop by and do some editing at my home.  I rushed around, making sure that the living room was presentable, although the rest of the house would never have passed muster.  I had instructed the children to play out back, with the older ones watching out for the younger ones.  All was going well, I thought.  I hadn’t, however, counted on Arnold.

Vera was well into the paper, going over changes she was recommending I make, when we both heard a low, snuffling sound coming from the kitchen followed by a loud crash.  My heart sank.  I knew what – or should I say who? – it was.  Sure enough, the children had slipped into the kitchen for Kool-Aid and one of them had left the back door open just a crack.  That was all Arnold needed.  Since he was the only kid left without a glass of Kool-Aid, he had decided to take matters into his own hooves.  When I heard the crash, I covered my eyes and groaned.  Although I didn’t want to do it, I walked over to the door between the living room and kitchen and cautiously peeked in.  There was Arnold in the kitchen happily snuffling up the spilt Kool-Aid and licking the pitcher clean.  The thing that made it the most embarrassing was that Vera was the only person in my house that day who found a pig in the kitchen to be anything out-of-the-ordinary.  Around our house it was just another day.

© Gebara Education, 2001.  No portion of this book may be copied by any method without the express written permission of the author

Picture of white pig from www.fwi.co.uk

Picture of white rabbits from www.taluswindranch.com

Picture of rabbit hutch from www.farmlearning.com

Picture of Pigs are Friends tee-shirt from www.spreadshirt.com

Picture of Kool-Aid from www.rcjordin.com