Final Note On Pigs…

Simon, our Wildman son and co-founder of Window to the Wild, really lived up to his name the other night.

He and his wife live on a bird rehabilitation centre in their Tiny House, The Perch,


with more than 20 birds safely housed in large enclosures within earshot of their living quarters.

The other night he heard gunfire.  Not that unusual, given the location of their premises, but this was very close.

He did not seek cover, he did what every Mum warns her children not to do,

he went outside into the unknown, to investigate.

Luckily his Wildman persona offered him protection along with his flashlight and loud voice.

He tramped around the wooded property shouting back and forth with the gun slinger until he came across an old man,

not just any old man,

an old man who also lives on the property and is partial to the odd tipple.

He was sitting on a wild boar,


with his own flashlight, some the worse for wear!

“Shot him right through the lungs,” he said when he caught sight of Simon, “He’s all yours!” and off he stumbled into the night.

My son called one of his chef friends who took the challenge to join him in a two man butchering party once he finished work.

Simon used his time well.  He drove off and bought ice and salt to rig a makeshift cooler large enough to keep the meat fresh until morning.

An hour later the two of them had the pig strung up in a tree ready to be quartered.


“Not much left of the hide by the time we’d finished,” Simon told me the next day.

“Did he have tusks?”  Hubs asked.

“Yes, I guess he did, short ones.”

“They would make good knife handles.”

“I threw the head in the pond for the catfish, didn’t know what else to do with it that late.”

“Shame,” said Hubs.

“…guess I’d better figure out a way to retrieve it,” said Simon and hung up.

And I know what we’re having for Thanksgiving dinner!


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