MONTANA AND DAKOTA

Gin and I drove over the next day. There were pigs everywhere,
boars, sows, barrows, gilts, and piglets. Mrs. Rogers led us past
the outside pig-pens into the barn. The nursery was a farrowing
pen where the piglets were still with their mother, a huge, all red
Duroc sow. Gin picked out a gilt that looked just like her Mama,
(the pig's Mama, not my Mother-in-law) and we told Mrs. Rogers
that we'd be back in a week.

My old truck had died on the highway the day before, so we took
Gin's car to pick up the piglet. Mr. Rogers led us to the nursery
and with one quick scoop, he handed me the right piglet. I
carried it to the car and set her on the rear floorboards
where I had spread newspapers. Gin paid Harvey thirty-five dollars
then joined us. I babysat while Gin drove the twenty miles back
to Sonrise. The piglet behaved like a puppy, sniffing the floor
and then the back seat before jumping up to sit right between
our bucket seats. I petted her to keep her calm and Gin kept looking
over at me and grinning, I don't know why, isn't this how everybody
hauls pigs? We discussed names for our new critter. I had been
reading a lot of Zane Gray and wanted something western. We settled
on Montana.

I carried Montana down the path to her new home, pointing out
some landmarks as I went. "This is the garden, in a few months
you'll get some of them beets and carrots and tomatoes...
these are Christmas trees we bought live and then planted afterward,
you'll love Christmas, maybe Santa-Pig will bring you a nice present
if you're a good piggy...that is the chicken coop, don't mind those
birds, they'll do a lot of fussin' and crowin' but generally
won't bother you..."

I had the pig pen cleaned and white-washed, the feed trough bleached
and scrubbed. There was a fresh pile of hay in one corner and
sawdust spread elsewhere. Montana was tuckered out from the ride
and went right to her bed for a quick nap before supper.

Less than a month before getting the piglet, Daisy-Mae had given
birth to her third calf. It was a bull and we named him Dakota.
Except for the rabbits in their wall to wall bunny condos and
an occasional chicken or barn cat, he had been alone in the barn
while the cows were out to pasture during the daytime.

Dakota was snoozing when I brought the piglet in so he didn't
know what could be making that weird noise in the other pen. I arrived
at chore-time to find him standing at his gate and blatting. Montana
was doing figure-eights in her pen and squealing. Being born and
raised on a hog farm she had never heard a cow before. I closed
the barn door and turned them both loose. They walked toward
each other like gunslingers, touched noses once, then went back
to their pens, I just sat and watched from the feed room, amazed.
They kept quiet after that meeting until I brought in the cows.
Dakota started crying for his Mama and Montana squealed for
her dinner.

The next morning Dakota went out to pasture with Daisy-Mae and
Rosi. Opening the sliding door to the pig's outdoor run, I let Montana
outside for the first time in her life also. I then went to work.

Just after lunch Gin called, the calf was missing! Hurrying home,
I joined the search in progress. We checked everywhere, the barn,
the woods, the neighbor's back yard. Dakota had dissapeared
completely. I was at the neighbor's when Gin hollered, "Keith,
now the pig's escaped!" I ran back through the woods and after a
couple trips around the pasture, herded the piglet back through a
split in the fence and then through the trap door into the barn.
The trap door was dropped and Montana was grounded for a week
until I bought new fencing. The search for the calf continued in
vain until supper time.

It was eight o'clock that night, chores were done and the search
begun anew, this time with flashlights. I started across the
dirt road to the big woods, shouting, "Dakota, aren't you hungry?"
I heard a soft moooo and ran to a fallen tree where he had probably
been all day long, just out of sight, about ten feet from the
roadside. I carried him to the barn, vowing to get him a collar with
a bell before letting him out again.

Zane Gray never mentioned chasing pigs and lost calves were rounded up on horseback. Maybe I'll get me a lasso...or a horse.