This week at the barracks, there have been three obsessions. Mine has been with preparing firewood for the winter, the weather has been obsessed with snow, and the pigs have been escaping on an almost daily basis.
I think it was Friday when they escaped four times. By the third, I was sure that the fence was electrified, secure, safe and sound, and eventually went to bed after bringing them home for the last time two hours after sunset. At minus 6 C, this is less adorable and less fun than you probably think it was. Two hours later, with the temperature dropping further, I heard them outside again.
This time, I decided to leave them. I don’t exactly credit them with free will, but exhausted and very very upset, it actually took a huge effort not to leap up and shepherd them back home - I don’t think I am lying when I say that it was harder than getting out and guiding them back to the the pig house again.
The next morning, when I went to bring them their breakfast I was 50:50 if they would be there. There has always been a chance that they make it out to the forest. This is not the future I want for them, I don’t think it would turn out well, but I also don’t thin I can 100% stop them.
There was no sound, not the slightest shadow of a pig. They never don’t come out when they hear me, doubly so at breakfast time. So I went into their house, emotions all over the place - I genuinely did not know if I wanted to find them in there or not - Schrodinger’s pigs. And then, the wave form collapsed, they were there, and I was very relieved.
That morning, in the worst chill and winds we have had so far this year, I figured out how they were getting out, rehung the fence and left them to it. Until this morning, they have stayed put. Very sheepishly for pigs. And this morning, I was greeted with fresh-snow pig tracks all over the barracks again. Again, they were in their house. Again, very cold and tender, and I realised that I can no longer keep them safe.
Short of building permanent fences (which would not be possible now even if I had the wherewithal to do it). There really isn’t much more I can do to keep them where I can look after them and feed them. They have been hand fed every 12 hours every day of their lives. They will not do well in the forest.
The idea of keeping because it benefits my mental health is very un-vegan (and times have moved on from the Snow Piggies Save Lives post) and I seems liks it might be time to seriously consider finding them more suitable accommodations.
I was really hoping for a cheerful newsletter this week. It is genuinely stunningly beautiful here. I would have liked to have shared more of that with you, but for now,
much piratety Love to all (yes, even pigs)
your Pirate Ben
xoxo
Schroedinger’s pigs indeed. Love you, Dude.
I wish the piggies understood human reasoning. 🙏 (Without ending up like at Orwell.) Maybe they wouldn't live happier in general though...