A piggy situation

'Oh, hello!' Kara walked into the south wing of the old barn and looked down in surprise. There, in the morning sunshine lays rumple-faced Miss Marple, one of our Kunekune sows. The day before, she had been in her tractor pen, at the far end of the west field. She is a big pig, using her snout to push her pen around all on her own to reach new grass. Still, Kara pulls her onto fresh ground each morning, checking on her and bringing fresh food and water. At that end of the field are our massive compost piles, covered with tarps held down by old tires. 'When I pulled her that direction, I wondered if the tires might be a problem,' Kara relays with a laugh at dinner. 'But then I went, nah, she'll be fine.' The good news is that the pig is fine. She just went on a bit of an adventure. Sometime after evening chores, Miss Marple must have pushed the edge of her pen up onto one of the tires, then ducked underneath. By her name, surely she must have been off to solve a murder mystery! Who knows how far she may have wandered or what places she explored during the night, but by morning, she had waddled into the part of the barn we bring the sows for farrowing, snuffling about for lost grain in the bedding that the sheep and pushed out of their pen. I'm sure the lambs near the front stared at her, wide-eyed. Undaunted, as most pigs are about almost anything, Miss Marple had gathered up the loose hay and straw and made a nest for herself, right there on the concrete floor. Even Finlee, our herding dog, had missed that she was in the wrong spot, doing a double-take when Kara said hello. He dashed up to her, sniffing her ears and wagging his stump of a tail left over from his cancer surgery earlier this year. Miss Marple yawned and stretched, standing up and grunting, hungrily. Kara had to walk all the way between the barn and the white-doored shed, all the way past the red barn where the horses and donkeys live, down the path between the trees, then half-way down the west field to snag the now empty tractor pen and drag it back into the barnyard. She tossed a handful of grain onto the lawn, and Miss Marple eagerly trotted out to snarf it up. Then she lifted the pen over the top of the pig and set it down. Finlee chaperoned the entire situation, keeping calm and wagging his butt. Miss Marple could not have cared less, munching away. For now, she is staying in the yard, far away from those old tires. As I trounced through the yard on my way to pick broccoli spears in the high tunnel, there she was, using her short snout to lift the hog panel wire enough to push the pen over a few more inches, contentedly ripping at the grass. 'That pen is more of a suggestion for you, isn't it?' I laughed, watching her. She only grunted, not even bothering to look at me. The sows have quite the piggy spa when it is farrowing time, lounging in their straw-filled pens in the barn. Clearly, Miss Marple felt she needed that spa treatment and just helped herself to the accommodations. Clearly, our animals are in no hurry to get away! If there's something pigs are good for, it's a good old belly laugh! See you down on the farm sometime. Laura Berlage is a co-owner of North Star Homestead Farms, LLC and Farmstead Creamery. 715-462-3453 www.northstarhomestead.com