“I want us to raise chickens for meat,” CJ said. “Like proper farmers.”
“Seriously?” I said. “When you wanted to breed pigs for meat you fell in love with the pigs and ended up screaming, ‘I will never eat their babies!’ Remember?”
The first time Kowhai jabbed me in the leg with his tusk, it hurt. The second time, a week later, it bled. Both times he was just nudging me, but a gentle nudge from a 300 pound kunekune boar with long tusks is a bit like a friendly slap on the back with a grizzly bear claw. We had to do something about those tusks.
Our three scruffy pigs stared through the paddock gate, transfixed by a vision of loveliness: Giggles the majestic polka-dotted kunekune pig. She was above them, standing on the back of a trailer.
She clearly wanted nothing to do with our motley pigs nearby.
