Sunday, 2 November 2008

Crackling - is there anything it can't do?

Listening to: Dream For Me (The Accidental)

The little black kitten was in big trouble. When he crept out of the weather into the workshop to pinch a little of Trevor's food, he can't have imagined he'd end up being pulled by the neck by Spike and by the back legs by Midge (another new arrival).

The pig "farmer" managed to get the dogs off, but the panic-stricken kitten dashed straight into a closed door and the terriers got hold of him again. Owen the collie/spaniel cross was flapping about like John Inman in the middle of a Rugby League game.

The kitten was moments away from coming apart so the pig "farmer" did the only thing he could, he grabbed a large piece of wood and hit his best friend on the side of the head - quite hard.

Spike fell back and seemed only too happy to hurry into the house, followed by Midge and John Inman. I looked back to see the kitten lying, panting on the floor, seemingly unable to move.

I went to shut the dogs in only to find Spike's bowels and bladder had given up on him. . . all over the utility room floor.

His legs wouldn't work properly either.

Trying suppress panic at the thought I'd maimed my dog, I cleared up and got Spike settled down in a bed in front of the fire. He seemed a little better, but still couldn't walk properly.

I checked on the kitten, but he'd gone - I kind of assumed he'd gone off to die. I went into the kitchen to get tea ready. I gave the crackling a tap and snapped a bit off, glancing down to see an all-too familiar face looking up adoringly at me.

"You had me really worried, you little bastard," I muttered, handing the miraculously fit and well Spike an extra-big bit.

* Midge is my stepdaughter Amy's dog - part terrier, part chihuahua (!) - he's a bit frightened of his own shadow, but he's cottoning on that there's no real dog heirarchy here (Spike is kind of top dog as he's the cleverest) and, as you can see, he's settling in just fine.

Oh yeah, the next day I went into the barn and spotted the kitten rummaging about, looking for mice behind the straw bales. He never stopped to say 'thanks'.


pissoff said...

Poor Spike. However, you had to do what you had to do. I would have done the same but without the crackling.

Lindsay said...

Glad all is well. I once took a plank of wood to our labrador and chased him round the garden after he had eaten the middle out of a newly baked cheese and watercress quiche. I am not a good cook so was proud of my effort which made the whole incident worse!

Jessica at Bwlchyrhyd said...

Keeping your mouse population under control IS the little one's way of saying thank you! :)

Murph said...

Blimey what a horror story!

Thank goodness Spike, like most of us, responds positively to a nice bit of crackling.

I'm still laughing at the Spaniel-John Inman-Rugby match concept!

I, like the view said...


crackling has made me think of apple sauce


I don't know about dogs, only cats

in my experience cats are rarely grateful (except when they are hungry), aren't very loyal (except when they are hungry), and give the impression they are the superior being in the partnership (except when they are hungry)

talking of being hungry, which of your pigs were you eating?

Brad said...

Ah Kittens! I hear they swear like sailors.

Ginni said...

You should never expect gratitude from a cat. But isn't it wonderful how dogs live in the moment.

Zabigdog said...

Happy dog. Happy kitty. Tasty piggy. Life is good.

Anonymous said...

Zabigdog puts it perfectly.

Are you familiar with the novels of Pierre Magnan? 'Death in the Truffle Wood' has an heroic pig you might appreciate.

The Birdwatcher said...

How do you get it.. you know like crackling though? It always ends up soft when I cook Pork.

elizabethm said...

Now the one thing I do know is how to do crackling but hesitate to venture in front of a genuine pig farmer.
All sounds a bit traumatic really. Animals are just bastards aren't they? No idea how to behave, any of them.

Malc said...


Spikey is back to his old self, although we do detect signs that he's calming down a little - he actually came when called the other day.


My previous Jack Russell, Boris, was partial to mozzarella cheese off the top of a pizza.


Good point, although strictly that's Trevor's job.


There's something wrong if you don't like crackling.


Funnily enough, I'm not over-keen on apple sauce with pork. Cider gravy yes, apple sauce no.
Not sure which we are eating, but it's Eric or Ernie.


And break wind loudly at the most inappropriate time, I'm told.


'In the moment' as in 'act now and think later' - that's Spike all right.


Life is indeed good.


A pig hero - irresistable. Just put it on my Amazon wishlist.


If the butcher hasn't done it already score the skin with a Stanley knife. Pour some boiling water over it then pat it dry with kitchen towel, add a little salt and cook as normal - should crackle nicely.


And no conscience either.

Tossing Pebbles in the Stream said...

It seem you started the day in a way that got your heart pumping.
I am not sure I would wack my dog for the sake of a kitten. I have a dozen cats I would gladly give to someone.

I have a Great Dane that hate's pigs. If you want to get in the midst of a battle try to get a Great Dane to let go of a sow's ear! Great Dane's were bred to hunt wild boar in Germany. I think they must have a genetic disposition to attack pigs. Otherwise, they are lovely gentle dogs. The bitch I share my bed with certainly is.

Anonymous said...

Poor Spike! But, as you say, crackling hath charms to soothe et cetera.

Anonymous said...

I love it! Very creative!That's actually really cool.