It'll Be Fine

In the very beginning of life at Beirhope, I sought to live the good life. Well, sort of. The good life with a few added comforts and luxuries!

I felt disaster was not far away

I had a longstanding urge to rear some pigs. Having wandered around the Yorkshire Show and watched endless TV shows I settled on Tamworth's. Not surprisingly, I learned of a pig breeder just over the hill (the Cheviot Hill but that’s a minor detail). So, I rang the lovely Sarah who still today keeps in touch with us. I asked hubby his thoughts. His reply was that we did not need pigs; which obviously meant I needed them even more. So, within a couple of months we had gone from owning a dog, to actual farm animals. Three lovely Tamworth weaners arrived; their arrival being the subject of this story which is by no means made up. If anything, it has been played down. Because there’s amateur and then there’s us… You know when ‘you know’; that gut feeling trying to tell you something. Well, I experienced this and messaged our farmer neighbours to say I felt disaster was not far away. Nicky’s reply to this was ‘it’ll be fine’. When anyone ever tells you this they are lying and the exact opposite is actually the reality. Arriving home with three little pigs, I opened the van door to find that they had broken out of the cage. I had sort of borrowed hubby’s work van and now three little pigs were scratching around and had pooped everywhere. My first lesson as a pig owner – how to catch one in the back of a van. Number one was caught with no problem. But then came the middle child (I’m a middle child too). Hubby decided to help; never again will he be allowed. He opened the van door before the signal and out shot middle child like an Olympian, uphill and down dale at lightning speed. Tamworths are known for their ability to tunnel. We are surrounded by a forestry, and at that point, a newly planted forestry. Having yet again had the joy of sprinting up hill in wellies, my lungs and legs gave up. Hubby was sent after a red dot at the other side of the field – turned out to be a bucket. Disheartened and wondering which form you fill in for lost pigs, we headed home. Just then mc (middle child) shot past us again. Hubby stood still as mc ran directly towards him. There and then I witnessed the most spectacular tackle as man and beast met. Beast squealed, man screamed and let go and off mc went again. Thankfully, mc was shattered and headed to the fence where he was cornered and caught. I left hubby face down in the field as I carried my 20 kilo mc home. I’m not supposed to mention the lasso, but it’s too funny not to. As mc first escaped, hubby grabbed the dogs slip on lead. “Why?” I asked. “To lasso the pig” he replied. Spectacular fail as hubby soon found out – it is impossible to lasso a pig, sprinting around a newly planted field of trees. Just to add, no trees were harmed in this escapade. Our lovely neighbours, Nicky, Robert and the kids have been involved in several more pig incidents. It has become a past time to come over and help when we load or unload them. Because whenever we do, there’s usually some kind of incident causing great hilarity. And so, we now have a phrase we like to use between us and the neighbours, applied in situations when disaster is the most likely outcome – ‘it’ll be fine’.