My...Step-pigs?

Feta

Gaby

Houdini

Minerva

I have pictures of pigs that aren't even mine. One of the first friends I made after moving to Chicago had a whole herd of guinea pigs, and after not having seen any since Pumpkin, (my last childhood guinea pig) died when I was around 14, I naturally was very excited.

She brought over a couple to my apartment to visit, and I was hooked on them again. I'd forgotten (well not really...) how comforting their noises were and how funny their antics. I ended up being the pig sitter whenever they went out of town, and whenever I came over I found myself with a pig in my hand before a customary guest beverage.

My friend had been indoctrinated into life with pigs from another friend who had introduced her to Critter Corral a local Chicago rescue. She described the lady who ran Critter Corral as "her dealer", mostly because picking up a pig sometimes involved a rendezvous in a McDonalds parking lot or somesuch. :)

I've gotten all but one of my pigs through Critter Corral (Voltaire) and they too have become my dealer. I only had one parking lot rendezvous to pick up Connor (got the money? got the pig?) and my other visits have been to the "tower of piggy" to choose a friend. I also attended some of their events- such as their pignics or open houses where they always been a selection of adorable pigs that are up for adoption as well as raffles, gifts, and races or contests. They really do a great job of finding homes pigs, and taking care of senior piggies.

My friend had four adopted pigs all at once, three girls and one boy (fixed). There was Gaby- a tricolor with a great half and half face. Minerva- the"queen pig" is the silver pictured at the bottom. Feta is the cute toupee looking one at the top- part texel part teddy and finally Houdini, the lucky boy with the white new wave hair and brown triangle face.

I adored them all, but I have to mention Houdini because he was the Hugh Hefner of piggy. Fixing a male pig gets rid of the smell, but not the desire for love. Now, Houdini didn't get the normal kind of love. He lived with three strong minded women, so the kind of affection he got involved target peeing, ear humping, eyeball licking and hair eating. And he loved every minute of it. He lived to be over six years old, and although he was a rickety old man pig, he was an old man pig who got ALL the girls. Mostly because they were a captive audience, but he didn't much mind. For the record, his original name that he came with was Jim, but changed to Houdini when he decided to escape from a box by jumping vertically out of it. :)

I loved pig sitting for them because I could let them all run around on the floor, take pictures of them, pet them, and spoil them with veggies. My friend said she could tell what time of day I had been over, because the pigs would squeak for food at the same time every day for about a week after.

My friend's last pig was named Garrotxa (after a kind of cheese) who was a cute little black and red abyssinian who apparently thought my Connor was hot stuff and was flirting with him through the cage bars at a pig event we went to. I sadly have no pictures of her, but took care of her as well.

The Christmas after I got married, my friend took me to Critter Corral as a gift to pick out a couple friends of my own. I came home with two squirmy little black baby pigs, who were only a few weeks old and were small enough to both fit in my husband's hand. They had both been born at the rescue. These guys were Licorice and Schrapnel, who are the background picture for my blog.

I still pig sat for my friend's pigs, but was so enamoured with my own. :)
I was sad to hear when they finally passed away; I felt as sad as if they had been mine. Little did I know just how attached I could get to these squeaky, wiggly rodents.