On horseback in the California Swine Country

© Phetsy Calderon 1995
[from email August 9th, discussing chance encounters with wildlife while horsecamping]

[Me:]..Wild hogs! Yikes, but feral pigs can be horribly dangerous!

...Yup--in fact, I did an excellent imitation of a wall-eyed, spooky wild mare when my friend from Massachusetts, and certified loca (ex-eventer) casually mentioned "wild pigs."

"Wild pigs?! Do you mean wild pigs, or do you mean wild hogs (javelinas)?"

"Oh, they're pigs."

"Are they feral domestic animals, or are they really wild."

"They're wild."

"Excuse me?!! WILD HOGS? DO YOU KNOW WHAT WILD HOGS DO TO HORSES?"

"Yeah, they come over & the horses snort & then they share their alfalfa."

[aside:] Holy Santiago, do you do non-Catholic horsemen?

"No, that's not what wild hogs do. They outrun horses and disembowel them if they aren't in a good mood."

Well, I called, did some checking, felt it was safe to proceed, and we did spot some porkers. If they were wild hogs, they were the biggest such to walk the Western U.S. I think they were many-generation feral. Worst thing that happened was the reaction of my friend Cassie, who was camping, first time, with her horse. We were sitting around enjoying an excellent camp meal (many-veggie stir fry, chicken breast slices, topped with a wonderful tamarind chutney over brown rice. Good zinfandel on the side). Suddenly Cassie yelped "It's a pig! It's getting in the food boxes!"

"Oh fuffle," I think, "I'm not quite finished with my zin."

"Phetsy! What do we do?"

I'm not really in a hurry to get up close & personal with this thing, but...my morning coffee stash is over there somewhere. "We go see if this is a pig or a hog--slowly & carefully."

We approach. We stay well out of the pig's threat space. It's a sow, with her trotters in our tortilla chips. And it is obviously not a javelina.

Aw hell, I think, we're gonna have food scattered from here to Fresno. So Cassie & I went into the stomp-whistle-yell routine that you do to rid the vicinity of undesirable alien animals.

Sow looks at us, thinks "Eh. Usual Ineffectual Two-legs," goes back to rooting in the Doritos.

I'm wishing my mom were around with her .38 (she once dropped a wild boar in a German forest with a pistol), Cassie is getting exercised. "Phetsy, she's not leaving. How we gonna get rid of her?"

"I dunno, but if she gets in my coffee supplies, we're havin' fresh bacon for breakfast & my pocket knife's gonna be dull. Hey, Cassie, where'd you go?"

Cassie had grabbed a folding chair. She heaved it at the ol' pig & beaned her right on the snout. Pig snorts, squeals, starts scrambling away.

Then she stops & looks back at us--Cassie standing in front of me (she's got the lantern).

"Phetsy, she's looking at me."

"Well, shoot, Cass, if a cat can look at a queen..."

Cassie starts backing up. Into me. She's a couple inches & 15 pounds bigger, and not ethereal in her conformation. She's moving me back toward the hitching rail where her 15.3 TWH is hiding behind my 14.2 Arab.

Her horse kicks. And his butt sticks out past HRH Prince SquirrelFoot.

"Uh Cassie..."

"God that's a mean looking old sow...What if she comes back? Omigod what if she runs at us?! What about the horses?!!"

"Cassie, she can't see this far. See, she's heading to somebody else's food. Cassie? Cassie?"

Cassie is Not Receiving. She backs me up farther.

So I calmly stuck my right index nail in her flank and said, "Pass left, pass left, goood girrrl Cassie, pass left, Whoa."

She did a beautiful transvers to halt.

Only other thing that happened were a few Arab snorts--HRH Prince SF thought piggies stink--and the old sow came & rooted at my emergency tools kit, which was sitting under the pickup tailgate for the night. I yelled at pig to "Go away & let me sleep." She did. Oh, & SF undid both himself & Cassie's horse Rusty on 3 different occasions, so I ended up tying the buggers on bowlines & threatening SF with no ride if he did it again. He may not know English but he recognizes the I Have Had It tone...