Pigs by Number

These days pigs, like everything else in life, have to be registered with the Government and, therefore, have to have numbers.  Metal tags, with their Owner's Unique Code printed on one side, and a Personal Pig Number on the other, must be inserted into the ear of each pig, rather like an earring.  It won't be long before the same is expected of us humans.

The other day Hughie, who, as owner of the Kilchoan pig herd, has a OUC, came along Ormsaigbeg to put new tags into the ears of his boar and sow.  They, close readers of this blog will recall, occupy the field immediately opposite our house.  It being a perfect evening, The Diary went down to record the fun.

Hughie came well prepared with bribes, in the form of sweet words and food - not that the pigs were too interested in the latter as they had already been fed by about six different visitors on rather better better fare than Hughie had to offer.

Of the two, the sow was more interested in the food than the boar: she's rather bullied by her mate, so gets second pickings at the dinner table, and she is, of course, eating for eleven or more.  So, with her distracted, Hughie managed to get the job done quite quickly.

Banging a hole into the ear of a half-ton boar wasn't quite so easy.  For a start, he'd seen it done to his mate and knew how painful it was going to be, so a merry dance ensued in which Hughie chased him round the field until, finally, the boar stopped long enough....

....for Hughie to do the deed - though both Hughie and the machine that clips on the tag nearly went flying into the nearby Sound of Mull.

The sow seems rather pleased with her earring, the boar less so.  Perhaps it is that she got the Personal Pig Number 0001 and he got 0002, but it's more likely that he would have preferred a nice three-carat diamond in his ear rather than a piece of cheap aluminium.

Nursing several bruises and, in The Diary's opinion, lucky to be alive, Hughie went off with the rest of his tags to do the eight piglets.  They too must have taken strong exception to what he did as, the following day, they escaped from their run and rampaged across the gardens on the Old Golf Course - see Sandra's story here.