Sunday, March 20, 2011

the saga of scab

I've started this tale of Scab four times.  I never thought it would be so hard to write about a hog.  It's just such a...touching story.  So I'll start where I came in....

The other night, Steve was telling Wretch something and she started laughing loudly and hollering at me to come to the living room and hear what he was saying.  And since I can't tell anything nearly as funny as Steve can, I will try to relate what he said in his own words.  When you read it, please think of a deep southern accent with a lot of dry humor around the edges....

Steve:
Bud bought Scab when she was just a pig (that's a small hog by the way).  He found her one day in his barn.  She had stuck her head through a hole in the wall and instead of lifting up and out of the hole she went down and got stuck even tighter.  She started pulling back, and pulled til she couldn't pull no more.  By the time Bud found her she had given up and laid down to die.  He pulled her out of the hole and left her there, figuring she'd be to bury the next day.

Well, the next day, she was up.  And all she ended up with was a raw spot on her neck that scabbed over.  So Bud started calling her Scab. 

Now Bud couldn't keep Scab penned up.  She was so good at breaking out that they just let her have the run of the yard most of the time.  You can only pen a determined hog up so many times, then you just have to give up and give in.  So among the chickens running around was this huge hog.  But she was friendly.  Til she got older.

One time I went by Bud and Vicky's (that's Mrs. Bud) and I saw Vicky's car there, but Bud's truck was gone.  And the back door was standing open.  I went to the back door, and here came Scab running out the back door, almost knocked me down on her way out.  I went in, thinking someone might be hurt or something, and saw garbage scattered all over the kitchen.  Scab had gone in and torn out the garbage and strewn it all over the kitchen floor.  There was no one in the house so I went outside to the only spot I could get cell phone reception and called Vicky.  I told her Scab was in the house and the back door was standing wide open.  I heard Vicky tell Bud "YOU left the back door standing open and the hog got in!"  Then I heard Bud saying in the background "I thought YOU closed the door!".  I just shut the back door and left Scab outside.

At this point I resume telling you all that by this time I was laughing until my sides hurt, and Wretch was laughing with me like she hadn't just heard all this a few minutes before.  I told Steve they should have just kept Scab for a pet because she was so entertaining.  Steve said "oh hell no, she weighed about 450 lbs by the time we butchered her.  That is too much hog to have running around the yard."

I said it was sadistic to butcher a pet.  Steve said "well most hogs never see their first birthday, and she lived a bit longer than that.  We couldn't kill her first because she was in heat, so she got to live a bit longer."

By now I am thinking that maybe being a girl hog has a little more advantage.  But the whole hog saga has me thinking I don't want any pork of any kind, ever again.  I don't like thinking that I almost knew this hog personally.

That was cemented forever when Steve got out a pack of sausage the next morning and said:
"You ready for some Scab?" 

That was it for me.  I swore off sausage in that instant forever.  I wasn't kidding.




I don't care if he does serve Scab on my Grammy's plate.


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