Country roads

Wallowing and reading
There are at least two things that humans share with pigs; both are sensitive to the sun’s rays and both are willing to work in order to be comfortable.
With the Healdsburg Future Farmers’ Country Fair around a corner or two, it is fitting that I write about hogs. Even if it is unfitting, I still enjoy this topic, as our farm has been involved with hog raising since we arrived in 1978. There always seems to be a 4-Her or an FFA-er who is walking (chasing after) a pig readying for the show ring at the fair.
This year there are quite a few hogs behind the work shop in their newly constructed hog house and exercise yard. Two sides of the yard are bounded by pig wire and posts; one side is the wood wall of their house; the fourth is the back of the wood shop and it is constructed of aluminum siding.
The aluminum siding has been on the work shop frame for 37 years, probably more, as the shop was on the property when we bought this place. It housed for many years horses that we boarded so Farmer Joel built six stalls, three on each side, big enough for horses. After a few years some of the pig operation borrowed a couple of the stalls.
Fast forward 25 years to a new generation of children raising hogs and that old aluminum siding getting older and you can tell where this story is going.
Two different family members found me working in the garden a week ago to report “the hogs are taking down Martin’s shop.” Martin was off the property so we, ladies all, investigated and filed our report.
They were, indeed, removing by tearing with their teeth and snouts, the back wall of the shed. They were lifting it up severed piece by severed piece and from the inside of the shed, where we stood, could be seen their intent, merry faces really enjoying this pursuit. They hadn’t had so much fun since they were piglets. I reported to Martin by cell phone that even if they were able to squeeze through the opening they had successfully created, they would only gain access to one of the old pig stalls which was enclosed with still functioning pig wire.
Thus, when we returned to check on their progress, they were happily munching away at some unforeseen tidbits on the cement floor, half in and half out of the stall, framed with bent aluminum siding curled up as high as they could reach, step one in creating a new doorway, or, multiple doorways.
The next day two hogs were hogging the entire stall, taking an afternoon nap (another activity we humans have in common) and on the day after that a third hog had stretched himself out in the same direction as the other two, with his front leg resting gently on the tummy of the middle one, all three fast asleep.
While they were resting, I was sitting in the waiting room of a dermatology lab, waiting. Outside much of the day, we humans are susceptible to the sun and eventually succumb to skin problems. I sat down across from the only other patient, a gentleman whom I greeted with “Good Morning.” He good morninged me back and I sat down. I got up to peruse the magazine rack which contained two children’s books, a magazine with a lead story about psoriasis, and a telephone book.
“The best choice is the telephone book,” I commented.
“I thought so, too!” he answered with a short laugh.
Across the room I spied a much larger display of reading material but after checking over those, which included mostly sports magazines and many more devoted to psoriasis, I returned empty handed to my seat.
“The telephone book is still the best read here,” I said.
“Yep,” answered the man.
The only difference between mankind and hogs regarding skin problems is that the hogs never learned to read. They are very susceptible to burn and heat stroke. Therefore, when the day is excessively hot they need a mud hole to wallow in, getting a protective layer of cool mud on their backs and snouts.
It all makes perfect sense; when it’s suffocatingly hot in our town, try a nice mud hole in the back yard and spend a couple of hours reading a book with an interesting plot, not one filled with telephone numbers and yellow pages.
Renee Kiff weeds and writes at her family farm in Alexander Valley.