Pig Panic

Bully is worried about very few things. One of them is pigs. Guess what moved into the pen next to the barn where the chickens used to live?

Yup.

It is a small pig, as pigs go, and mostly fuzzy white bristles, and black ears. He has the most lovely eyelashes. He talks to himself, grunting and snorting and squeaking and singing, rootling about in the pen.

Bully is appalled. Appalled to the point of disinterest in his feed, pacing his stall and having to have water carried out to him where he stomps at the far end of the field having discreet elderly fits. I hand grazed him so he had some food in him, and I think he probably grazed a tiny amount while he was turned out today.

I really, really hope he settles down enough to eat soon. I guess we can give him some of his feed separated from the mare in the back pasture.

foolish old man