Donkey & Pig Show

Country life, farm living is the life for me. I can sometimes be a hermit, but I think most country folk can be as we tend to enjoy the peaceful surroundings of home. I have always felt that raising my children in Arroyo Seco was one of the best choices I made for them. I was that single working mom raising a family of four, and it had its moments, hurdles. Had it not been for me to find something to laugh about in the hardest of times, I never would have made it to where I am today. It shaped me into the woman and writer I have become.

I was a busy mom with children in all directions. I drove the 101 freeway in both north and south of South Monterey County three or four times a day, sometimes the 15-mile trip back up to Arroyo Seco because someone forgot their homework, lucky game shirt or a library book that would result in a fine I would have to pay. We did everything from football to baseball to wrestling and band with FFA and 4-H. I can look back at those years and think not only did we survive them, but I have some great memories.

My two youngest boys raised pigs every year for the Salinas Valley Fair in King City. Pigs are escape artists, or at least ours were, and every fair season, I asked them two boys if those pig pens were pig ready. I'd get the thumbs up, the yes mame, and the best pig pen we ever built, which was pretty much what they said every year, and every year I knew better, those pigs will get out, and it was just a matter of when and what time.

My children rode a bus to school, so they were out the door by 7:15 am, which became my quiet moments of the day. That early morning cup of hot chocolate with leftover breakfast and a hot shower before work was all I needed to get pumped and ready to start my day. Serenity now, hot shower here I come.

Just as I applied the shampoo to my hair, I heard this blood-curling, ear-piercing squeal coming from outside. I turned the shower off so I could hear better. It's louder now, the dogs are barking, the chickens are all cackling. Something is happening out there. I grab my rob, pull on my boots, and head outside to see what's creating all this noise. Now I'm sopping wet with shampoo stinging my eyes, and the whole barnyard was in chaos. Dust and dirt was flying everywhere. As I stood there in the middle of my driveway, in nothing more than a robe and a pair of cowboy boots, I looked over into the corral. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I had to rub that shampoo out of my eyes to get a better look. The donkey had this pig by the ear and was dragging him around that corral like a rag doll. The more that pig resisted, the harder that donkey pulled and the louder that squeal got. It was a fight, and I, had to break it up.

I've had to break up a few fights before, and I've had a few of my own. I've broken up dog fights and catfights; even my kids would get in a tussle now and then. But never did I ever think, I would have to break up a fight between a pig and a donkey. This is about when I start cussing them boys as I stomp my way to the corral, still dripping wet. I thought this would be as easy as me just getting Pancho to let go of the pig. Nope, not going to happen. I tried to pull that pig's ear out, but that donkey had a grip on that pig, and the more I tugged on that ear, the more Pancho bit down, and the louder the pig squealed. Dogs are still barking; chickens are all excited and flocking inside the coop, and I'm getting dragged along with the pig as Pancho refuses to let go of his death grip, and I refuse to let go of the pig's ear. I dug the heel of my boots into that Arroyo Seco dirt like a steer wrestler. The pig and I were losing as I spit dirt out of my mouth. That squeal echoed through the canyon so loud even the horses ran for cover.

There was only one way I was going to win this fight. I ran back into the house and grabbed the shotgun. BAA-BOOM! One shot in the air and that donkey let go of that pig so fast who then wasted no time as it took off and ran back inside of its pigpen. Dogs were all hiding in their dog houses and not a chicken anywhere. The horses all huddled together to the far side of the corral. I looked at Pancho, and he looked at me. He spun his ass around, trotted over to the horses, and squeezed himself in between them.

I still had to go to work, but first, I had to get all this dirt out of my hair, and I was still spitting dirt clogs. I'm still cussing those two boys because now I'm late for work, and I have to explain this to my boss. Oh you know it was just an average donkey and pig fight, like that happens every day. By now, my phone was ringing as I stomped my way back into the house. It was my neighbor.

"Everything okay over there?," Dave asked. "I thought I heard a pig squealing, then I heard all the dogs barking up that way and then that shotgun so I figured I better see if I need to come up there with the backhoe," he laughed.

"Everything is okay just a fight between the donkey and the pig," I told him. "But I broke it up."

Slight pause. We both start laughing.

"That's why you never mess with a jackass," he said.

No words were ever better spoken, and I think that pig learned it's lesson to stay in its pen. I did check on the pig's ear before I left, and it was still attached to the pig. The boys would have to doctor it up when they got home. The dust had finally settled, and the peace at home was once again restored. As I go to leave for work, I looked over at Pancho who had followed the horses back to feed.

I'm not to sure what started the fight that morning, but I don't think the pig is qoing to squeal.