CARSON

The story of Carson the Pig

I have been in love with pigs since I was a young girl. The attraction was immediate with them being so cute, smart and funny. It didn’t hurt that “Charlotte’s Web” was my favorite book. I started picking them up everywhere I went and soon had quite the collection. Once people knew that I liked pigs … they would give them to me all the time saying “I saw this pig and thought of you!”

Of course the thought entered my mind of having a pig of my own but we already had a family dog and my parents were not keen on the idea of having a farm animal in the house. So I bided my time, moving out, getting married and all the while, collecting more and more porcine pleasures. At one point, I was a member of the Illinois chapter of the Happy Pig Collectors Club. Think about people of all walks of life sharing their love of the little porkers.

My opportunity to own a pig came unexpectedly and unfortunately didn’t last long.

My mother-in-law lived in rural north central Nebraska for a few years on a big plot of land. She had a dog, several cats and even wild turkeys roaming her property. She knew I’d wanted a pet pig but didn’t have the space for it. One day, she saw a sign advertising baby pot-bellied pigs for sale at a farm down the road. She didn’t hesitate. She raced right over and bought one for 20 bucks. He was about two months old, living in the barnyard with his mom and siblings. She named him Carson, after the legendary rib joint in Chicago (a favorite restaurant of hers).

My mother-in-law brought him home and into the house until she could get the pen built (neglecting to tell her husband about her plans). She held Carson close in her arms, petting him and saying “nice pig,” over and over, thinking that would be enough bonding for an infant pig to want to behave. Then … she let him loose in the house! Never having been inside a home before, Carson took off squealing, running through and upending flower vases, the cats’ litter box, and anything else not nailed down. By the time she caught him, it looked like a tornado had hit the house. When her husband came home and saw the mess and the little pig, it was decided Carson wasn’t such a good fit. Back to the farm he went.

We went out for a visit about a month later and headed to the farm to see Carson for ourselves. He was still running wild, tearing up the barnyard. His owner did manage to catch him for us and I got to hold him in my arms for a few minutes. Just as adorable as I imagined! His mother was about a 300 pound pig – if Carson grew up to be that size we would have been in trouble had we kept him. We asked where his dad was and the farmer said “in the freezer!” Ahh, the circle of life on a farm!