B2: Ten geese, one piglet

The ten geese moved on and a piglet took their place. He was perfectly formed, perfectly adorable, a perfect pink piglet and we named him Fritz.

Photo courtesy www.lipstickalley.com

Fritz lived in a long, low line shed of corrugated iron, open to sunlight on one side through ubiquitous chicken wire. Fritz was particular about his diet, a quality I indulged rather than discouraged. I fed him boiled potatoes seeped in milk, and at other times, he feasted on Weetbix. (Pigs eat everything, my father said. Not this little piggy, said I.)

I would let Fritz out for runs round the yard. We had plenty of space, over four acres in all, bordered on one side by a billabong. The billabong was piggy nirvana. As I opened the gate, Fritz would rush from his low line residence, face west and run excitedly across the dusty drive, over the levee bank and into the sticky clay, returning only when I called him to dinner. ‘Here Fritzi-fritzi-fritzi-fritzeee!’

Pig pellets
Photo courtesy Letisha Bates "Pig Love"
www.pinterest.com/lbates0711/pig-love/

I do not know when it happened or how, perhaps it was puberty, but Fritz changed. Massive hessian bags of pig pellets were shipped in, replacing the lovingly prepared meals from the kitchen. Enabler that I was, I gave Fritz everything his heart desired. I fed him the pellets, and more.

Naïve enabler that I was I realised too late that Fritz had found his love for food in time for Christmas.

TC