Thursday, 18 October 2007

Pig therapy

Listening to: the sound of happy pigs
Drinking: Dragonhead stout
Weather: sunshine, wispy cloud, wind has dropped
Reading: Countryside Direct catalogue
Birdwatch: a dozen curlews in the top field

It's U-turn time on Westray. Yesterday I began to meander down Self-pity Alley, letting the inevitable problems that go with being a sports journalist trying to be a farmer get on top of me. Today I'm chirpy again and it's largely thanks to a therapy session with Eric and Ernie.

The boys are coming on a treat, growing fast, eating well (they fall on their tea-time potatoes like a pack of hungry Wolves) and generally settling in beautifully. They no longer react to my approach as if they have had 10,000 volts passed through them. They don't run squealing around the shed, but come up to the gate as I climb over.

And they now allow me to give them a bit of a stroke, pat them and rub their back - pigs like that, just as we do. So it was that I spent the best part of an hour-and-a-half in the shed yesterday afternoon, eventually sitting down on the floor while they snuffled around my feet, nibbling at the leg of my trousers.

I emerged happier, more positive and quite recovered from the cry-baby wobble of the previous night.

Pig therapy. . . in a world stuffed with new age cranks and phoney remedies, I'm pleased to recommend something that actually works. Try it.


Arabella said...

Cheaper than a Freudian too.

Malc said...


Are you better?

Hannah Velten said...

Sorry to hear that you have been feeling down - yes, pig therapy. As you have seen, it works. But watch out for them as they get a bit bigger - that nibbling will turn into something harder...

I, like the view said...

you could offer destressing holidays to stressed-out executives

on the other hand, maybe keep the theraputic benefits all to yourself!


The Birdwatcher said...

I might order a couple myself. We can keep them in the garage, and let them out on the lawn during the day. That should just about put an end to any lingering hope of reconciliation with the neighbours.

Malc said...


Don't worry. I have no intention of sitting down to tea with a larger pig. It's steel toecaps as it is.


Not a bad idea, but I prefer to see executives suffer. They've enough to worry about wondering who to sack next, when they are going to get the company Audi serviced, how they can cover up their affair with the secretary, how they can fit in an extra free dinner, how they are going to spend the index-linked pension. . . and so on.

Friends, of course, are welcome to visit.

Malc said...


There won't be much lawn by the time they finish, but you might find the neighbours like them.

lettuce said...

pigs are wonderful