Anonymous Poster
Epic Contributor
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2005
- Messages
- 29,678
I have grown to trust Hercules, our duroc boar, to the point that a few weeks ago when I discovered he had broken out of his pen I just walked out there with nothing more menacing than a loaf of bread to bait him back into his pen.
I was so wrapped up in thoughts of what I would have to do to fix the pen and how long it would take to get him back in there that it never even dawned on me to be worried about being out there alone with this massive animal. He has never shown any signs of aggression, but still he's a big old pig, about seven hundred pounds or so with two inch cutters.
My first little nudge of alarm came when he lifted his head as I walked through the gate, let out a loud grunt and came running dead at me doing about thirty miles an hour. Oh crap. It was the bread he wanted, but I wasn't going to give it to him where he was, then I would not be able to bait him where I needed him to be.
I was at the point of no return, the gate was just as far away as the safety of the chute, so not wanting to appear as terrified as I felt, I merely quickened my pace. Show no fear. Works with dogs, right? Besides it would have done me no good to stop and go away and think the situation over. He needed to be back in his pen and that's all there was too it. If he got through any of the other fences he would have been off the property and gone.
I speed walked to the chute, humming loudly (smile) and as I was fumbling for the latch, Herc decided he had been patient enough so he gave me a little push from behind to remind me that he was wanting that bread. If you've ever had anyone walk up behind you and hit you behind both knees then you know what happened next. His broad nose hit me hard enough, that my knees buckled and I hit the ground, landing on my knees with a loud grunt.
The still locked gate was in front of me and my chest was pressed against it and he was standing directly behind me with his nose in my back. He sniffled and snuffled around the back of my neck, in my hair, raising chill bumps all over me. Then he stopped stock still and I held my breath. I just knew he had smelled something that he was debating tasting.
It was at that moment that a really bad thought hit me. I knew that if I was able to turn around to look, I would have had to look up to see into his eyes and I can't tell you how horrible that thought was.
Then I remembered what he was after and I quickly tore open the bread and threw it as far over my shoulder as I could. It worked, he backed up, but not before stepping on my calf and leaving a nasty bruise that I will never forget even after the black and blue goes away.
I stood up and let myself inside the chute and stood there panting, shaking and blinking back tears while he ate the bread. Breeding season is always like this. The boars break out, the sows break in and it is usually an exercise in chaos until everybody gets what they want.
If Herc had decided to get nasty I would have been done for. Very simple. Once I got him back in his pen and was trying to repair the hole he created he came up to the damaged area and pushed on it with his nose, trying to break out again. I kicked him on the end of the nose and he went off mad. I guess I was getting even with him scaring the heck out of me as well, but I hope the next time he breaks out that he doesn't remember that little kick and decide to get even with me!
That afternoon when Fred got home from work, I showed him the t-shirt I had been wearing that morning. There was a very clear dirt impression of a hog's snout right below the right shoulder seam. At first he laughed, then he asked...who's nose was THAT?
"Hercules'"
He stopped laughing.
"Are you all right?"
That's when I finally started to cry and he hugged me.
"Do I want to know how that mark got there?"
I told him what happened and he got mad.
"I TOLD you about going out there with that (really bad expletive) boar, the next time you leave him the (really bad expletive) out until I get home!"
"What if he got out of the pasture?"
"We'll deal with that if and when we have to."
He stayed mad the rest of the day and spent two hours out there working on the boar pens.
I have learned never to turn my back on any pig ever again. Hercules is still his same old amiable self, has never intentionally hurt anyone or anything on purpose but he has the potential even if he doesn't even mean to, and I will never ever again forget that fact.
I was so wrapped up in thoughts of what I would have to do to fix the pen and how long it would take to get him back in there that it never even dawned on me to be worried about being out there alone with this massive animal. He has never shown any signs of aggression, but still he's a big old pig, about seven hundred pounds or so with two inch cutters.
My first little nudge of alarm came when he lifted his head as I walked through the gate, let out a loud grunt and came running dead at me doing about thirty miles an hour. Oh crap. It was the bread he wanted, but I wasn't going to give it to him where he was, then I would not be able to bait him where I needed him to be.
I was at the point of no return, the gate was just as far away as the safety of the chute, so not wanting to appear as terrified as I felt, I merely quickened my pace. Show no fear. Works with dogs, right? Besides it would have done me no good to stop and go away and think the situation over. He needed to be back in his pen and that's all there was too it. If he got through any of the other fences he would have been off the property and gone.
I speed walked to the chute, humming loudly (smile) and as I was fumbling for the latch, Herc decided he had been patient enough so he gave me a little push from behind to remind me that he was wanting that bread. If you've ever had anyone walk up behind you and hit you behind both knees then you know what happened next. His broad nose hit me hard enough, that my knees buckled and I hit the ground, landing on my knees with a loud grunt.
The still locked gate was in front of me and my chest was pressed against it and he was standing directly behind me with his nose in my back. He sniffled and snuffled around the back of my neck, in my hair, raising chill bumps all over me. Then he stopped stock still and I held my breath. I just knew he had smelled something that he was debating tasting.
It was at that moment that a really bad thought hit me. I knew that if I was able to turn around to look, I would have had to look up to see into his eyes and I can't tell you how horrible that thought was.
Then I remembered what he was after and I quickly tore open the bread and threw it as far over my shoulder as I could. It worked, he backed up, but not before stepping on my calf and leaving a nasty bruise that I will never forget even after the black and blue goes away.
I stood up and let myself inside the chute and stood there panting, shaking and blinking back tears while he ate the bread. Breeding season is always like this. The boars break out, the sows break in and it is usually an exercise in chaos until everybody gets what they want.
If Herc had decided to get nasty I would have been done for. Very simple. Once I got him back in his pen and was trying to repair the hole he created he came up to the damaged area and pushed on it with his nose, trying to break out again. I kicked him on the end of the nose and he went off mad. I guess I was getting even with him scaring the heck out of me as well, but I hope the next time he breaks out that he doesn't remember that little kick and decide to get even with me!
That afternoon when Fred got home from work, I showed him the t-shirt I had been wearing that morning. There was a very clear dirt impression of a hog's snout right below the right shoulder seam. At first he laughed, then he asked...who's nose was THAT?
"Hercules'"
He stopped laughing.
"Are you all right?"
That's when I finally started to cry and he hugged me.
"Do I want to know how that mark got there?"
I told him what happened and he got mad.
"I TOLD you about going out there with that (really bad expletive) boar, the next time you leave him the (really bad expletive) out until I get home!"
"What if he got out of the pasture?"
"We'll deal with that if and when we have to."
He stayed mad the rest of the day and spent two hours out there working on the boar pens.
I have learned never to turn my back on any pig ever again. Hercules is still his same old amiable self, has never intentionally hurt anyone or anything on purpose but he has the potential even if he doesn't even mean to, and I will never ever again forget that fact.
