11/17/06 Woofey

Woofey Sometimes animals are kept on the ranch that probably shouldn't be. I'm Jeff Keane; I'll be back in one minute to tell you what I mean. We raised pigs when I was younger that ran loose on the ranch except in the winter, when they had their litters, or when they were being grown for market. One of the older brood sows had a permanent surly attitude that only got worse at farrowing time when her mothering instincts kicked in. This sow was christened "Woofey" mainly because of the vocals she used to let you know you were too close to her little ones. Nobody or nothing messed with Woofey. One spring a local 4-H leader, Mrs. Jasper, said she would like to buy some pigs for the club member's fair projects. The day she came to make her selections we turned all the little pigs together for her to look at and read her the disclaimer list and warning about getting too close to Woofey, even if she was in her pen. Mrs. Jasper would point out her choices and Dad, my brother, and I would catch it and put it in her truck. Mrs. Jasper only made one mistake, she got caught up in the excitement of catching pigs and tried to catch one right in front of Woofey's pen. Woofey reared up on her pen panel and bit Mrs. Jasper right in the back bumper. Thank goodness she had on a thick coat. At the sound of her yell, my brother, Dad, and I did the only manly thing we couldwe ran outside where she couldn't see us laughing at her misfortune and left Mom to console Mrs. Jasper. I don't think she choose any of Woofey's offspring. I'm Jeff Keane.