Yesterday, unknown to me until I arrived at the barn, was load the pigs in the truck for market day. I have said before that my barn is a working farm. So, I am not naïve to the fate of the adorable pigs that sun themselves on their "patio" below the main barn. I have no control over the fate of these farm animals. I wish I did, but I don't. The process of basically loading the pigs involves backing the truck up to their enclosure, installing a shoot up into the truck trailer and then basically making it the place they want to be. You put food in the trailer, not in their normal trough in the enclosure and you take the added inconvenience of making their enclosed space very small so it is more comfortable to go into the truck. And why right now did "just look at the flowers Lizzie, look at the flowers" pop into my head? LOL.
So, by the time I get to the barn, the pigs are PISSED. They haven't yet decided to go into the truck. Instead they are shoving each other around in the tiny space, pushing on the railing and one had even grabbed it in his mouth and was trying to pull it (or something). They were frustrated, noisy, probably scared and as someone who can feel the energy of places I can distinctly say that there was bad ju-ju in the whole barn.
The horses were edgy because the pigs (and all the noise they were making) were only like 100 feet away. After awhile the noise settled down and I (insanely) decided to take Koda outside for some fresh air. LOL. We did a few things just in the parking lot. He was OK until the pigs started up again, this time from INSIDE the trailer.
You know horses are afraid of stuff that moves. And stuff that makes noise. Well apparently inanimate objects that appear to be moving AND making noise all on their own are the undoing of fragile equine minds. So, I finally get my prancing pony back to the barn and manage to calm him down enough to say - now, we are going to walk through this door together... Meaning - please DO NOT run over me because it will hurt. And he actually DID (surprisingly) slowly step over the threshold with me. Then he let out an enormous blow and sigh as if to say - Thank the Gods we are safe mom!
On a side note - I have a feeling that boarding at a working farm is going to make me more vegan. LOL. I don't have the stomach for killing. It isn't a universal thing - I am like Lizzie's poor little sister, only with animals. Hell, I don't even have the stomach for the process of getting the animals to the place where the killing will be done! All night last night I thought about those poor pigs. I had bad dreams. People were missing body parts. There was angst and loud noises. LOL. I am down to eating venison because it is the only thing I am damn sure went down like a rock by Sam's expert hand and a millisecond before it was munching greenbriers. I just was not made for the process of meat from the point of this little piggy went to market...to oh look he ended up on my plate!
In Loving Memory
...of the first horse to hold my heart