We eventually found out “the Walrus was Paul”, but I wasn’t sure what to say when I was asked earlier this summer if I was the Egg Man? Aside from prompting me later to pull out my Beatles collection (which if you asked Elizabeth doesn’t take a hell of a lot), I could only answer “yes,” however sheepishly.

 

 

high street at the byre.

 

But more recently I was up at the Bernera poly tunnel project and someone asked if I was the Pig Man? So, pigs or hens. I have to admit that I am nervous about getting too close –– emotionally not physically –– to the pigs. They’re smart.

 

 

hello ladies.

 

They create their own nest using the reeds, flag iris leaves, and rushes. I had to relocate their temporary arc one day and I intentionally re-filled it with their bedding material. They proceeded to remove it from the new site and place it back at the original location, regardless of its being then roofless.

 

Pigs are serious about hygiene despite a canonical reputation for being dirty. They allegedly never urinate or defecate in their sleeping area. Tell that to a hen.

 

We only visit the pigs twice a day, to feed strict rations of green waste from the kitchen, fresh apples, and some pig nuts or pig rolls (large pelleted food). I am confident that they are now dropping weight, which is what we want in order for them to conceive.

 

With their strong snouts, they must work for most of their daily vittles. With a good quarter acre fenced off electrically, they have plenty of space. Believe me, they come running when they think we have food for them, but I have spied them from afar with their gobs loaded with roots and vegetation.

 

. . . Any suggestions for a new slogan?”

“How about ‘Pig Supreme’?” asked one of the lambs.

“No good,” said Charlotte. “It sounds like a rich dessert.”

“How about ‘Terrific, terrific, terrific’?” asked the goose.

“Cut that down to one ‘terrific’ and it will do very nicely. . .”