I don’t remember how old I was for sure. 13. Maybe 14. I do remember the horrible squealing and screeching sound our pet pig Bubba made any time we tried to give him a bath or pick him up off the ground. I’m pretty sure at least three people ended up deaf because of that swine.
We got him for Christmas one year. In all honesty, he was probably the coolest Christmas present we ever got at our house. My parents had heard about these miniaturized pot belly African pigs that stayed small, were house-trainable, and made incredible pets. Like a dog… but a pig. Imagine our surprise when we spent the morning listening to the pitter patter of tiny piglet hooves and miniature oinks filling our house.
Bubba was an awesome pig. He was never supposed to get much bigger than a Jack Russell Terrier. He did get a little bigger, but that was okay because we would lay on his belly while we watched TV, he was the life of neighborhood parties, and he was an all-out awesome pet to have living within the walls of our home. One of our neighbors, a television news anchor, actually kissed him on air once. Bubba was a star.
For some reason, Bubba never did potty train like they said he would. This was a problem that was greatly worsened by the fact that he also didn’t stop growing. When he hit eighty pounds or so, we built him an enclosure in the garage to help keep his “pig bombs” in a more centralized locale. I still get shivers thinking about walking through that mine field of methane emitting mounds. But it was a small price to pay for our beloved Bubba.
Bath time for that pig was incredible. If you ever want to experience temporary insanity and instant hearing loss, try giving a pig a bath.
They don’t like it too much.
I’m pretty sure every time we did, the coyotes started circling our home, sure that some poor animal was dying. At first two of us could pin him in place while we bathed him. With time it took three of us. Then four of us. And eventually we couldn’t do it at all.
It was a sad day when our pet pig Bubba had to go. You see, he never stopped growing, and as awesome as it is to have a pig for a pet in a suburban neighborhood, when they pass a hundred pounds, and then a hundred and fifty pounds, it starts causing problems. Bubba was part of the family, and so we did what was best for Bubba, and we gave him to a family up the road who had some extra land and a big family that could love him as much as we did.
Bubba lived with that family for a lot of years. Last I heard, he had grown to nearly 400 lbs. In the end, it turned out he was an ordinary farm hog. My parents had been duped. We all laugh about it to this day. Poor Bubba. I really miss that good ol’ boy.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing