Saturday, 10 April 2010
When mine and Tracey's pulse returned to near normal we consoled ourselves that at least only one piglet was dead and Stable Sprite would only be half as cross with us as a few seconds ago. I prodded the lifeless black body, nothing happened. I knelt down next to it and stroked its still warm body, poor pig, I could hear in the background Tracey was making oh dear noises. Poor pig, I scratched its belly. It exploded giving off a sound like a demented air raid siren on helium and shot around the barn like a deflating balloon before crashing out through the emergency exit and joining her sister who was already digging another tunnel. Not dead then, just tired. Phew. Smallholding, not for the feint hearted.
Posted by Tony at 18:42