Thursday 12 February 2015

Three woman, two pigs and one big lie





Tuesday morning, 8.15 and I found myself in a pigpen. Three of us were attempting to get two female piglets into the back of van. It should have been so easy but the piglets at the KWWSPCA animal shelter in Athgarvan were not playing ball and Richie the manager wasn’t helping matters.

“They might bite you,” he warned as I ran after the fattest of them, arms wide open. “They might eat you too,” he added. Susan, the other volunteer, joined in. “I watch Mafia movies. They always throw bodies to the pigs don’t they?” I didn’t go into this expecting to be eaten alive so I ran round in circles faster than Usain Bolt calling “Here piggy piggy”. All seven ignored me, and the ramp leading to the back of the van.

“We need to go to school,” my daughter shouted from the car. Forty-five minutes spent running around after the pigs and still not one caught. I was supposed to be driving them to their new home in Thurles and time was marching on. I dropped the kids off at school with a note for teacher explaining that we were late because I was chasing piglets.

I arrived back at the animal shelter to find horsey friend Fiona in her Puffa and wellies beside the pigpen. She had offered to come with me on the road-trip and deliver the piglets to their new home in Tipperary. Thankfully the team had managed to get two piglets, ‘Pinky’ and ‘Perky’ into the back but there was a problem. Lucy in Thurles had requested two females. Perky was a male and Perky would need castrating.

Lucy has just opened a shop in the middle of Thurles called The Green Sheep. She bakes cakes, bread and cookies to sell at her and husband Patrick’s artisan food store. It’s a dream come true but what she had always secretly desired is to keep a pet pig – or two.  She was happy to rehome two piglets from the KWWSPCA, just as long as they were girls.

Half way down to Tipp and our passengers were squealing. My heart was pounding and the inside of the van was beginning to stink to high heaven. At the wheel my palms were sweating. I’ve known Lucy all my life. She has a temper. There was every chance that my old school pal might throw a loaf at me when she discovered the mess I’ve made of her pig adoption. “Look”, said Fiona. “Let’s be honest and tell her the truth”.

“Let’s lie,” I begged, “Let’s just pretend that we didn’t notice SHE is a HE”. Fiona calmed me down with a reassuring  “Leave it to me”. Almost at our destination and an excited Lucy phoned. “How far away are you?” “Ten minutes”. Then, “Are my girls behaving in the back?” “Yes” said Fiona calmly, deciding it was best to break the news in person. She put the phone down and turned to me. “It’ll be fine”.  Perky squealed from the back. He knew we were talking about him.

Lucy met us in Thurles, got into the front of the van and sat on Fiona’s knee. I pulled my winter scarf over my face as Fiona broke the news. “Look. Perky is a male but with a lovely, lovely nature,” I was impressed at the way she softened the blow. Then, “He has the best colouring of all of six,” she continued.  Lucy looked over her shoulder at the two in the back. “He is gorgeous,” she agreed. How could she refuse Perky? He was very cute and with Pinky, they made a lovely couple.

We arrived at her small holding and lifted the piglets out, ushering them into their new home. “Back to the Green Sheep for a quick coffee?” Lucy offered. We squashed into the front seat and headed back towards Thurles and her husband, who was in charge whilst she was out. “Just one thing before we go in ladies” she turned to us and said gravely, “Whatever you do, don’t mention the pigs to Patrick”.

“What do we say when he asks what we are doing here?” “Tell him that you’ve come to look at…a horse”. I sighed. I know nothing about horses and Patrick knows that. This was Lucy all over. Tell a small lie and avoid confrontation rather than deal with the pig poo when it hits the fan. A bit like myself. It’s why we are friends.

The Green Sheep smelt beautiful as we opened the door. Freshly baked scones and hot coffee aromas filled the airy shop. But it didn’t last. Fiona and I looked first at one another, then down at our mucky boots. We both stank of the pigpen. “Hey!” Patrick called over to us from the shiny coffee machine. “What brings you here?” he asked, looking me straight in the eye. I wanted to say “PIGLETS” but kept quiet and looked panicky instead. He started sniffing. “What’s that smell?”

“You are here to see a HORSE aren’t you?” Lucy prompted me with a sharp poke from behind. I nodded and covered my face with the woolly scarf for the second time that day. “You’ve come to see a HORSE Annie?” Patrick knew I was lying. I nodded then squealed like a pig when I felt Lucy poke me again. Fiona came to the rescue by distracting him with twenty questions about The Green Sheep’s pesto sauce. I drank coffee in the corner, remaining silent knowing that if I opened my mouth, I might squeal again.

Some women buy shoes and hide them from their partners in the wardrobe. Others, like Lucy, adopt animals and hide them in a pen at the end of the garden. She plans to tell Patrick when the time is right and he will grow to love them as much as she does. There’s just the question of Perky’s castration. I think she should ask Fiona to break that news to him.




















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