I have a phobia of pigs.
It’s not a very big phobia, I can look at photos of pigs easily and as long as I’m on the other side of a good sturdy fence, I don’t have a problem.
But remove that fence and I’m scared.
When I was a kid, we got 3 pigs from a local farmer to raise. Being creative types, we called them Wilbur, Wilbur and Charlotte.
The two Wilburs only had 1 ear each. The farmer said that his horse had gotten into the habit of lifting the piglets up by their ears, tearing them right off. I’m not sure we ought to have believed him, but there we go. We had pigs that were missing an ear.
Charlotte however, she was missing both ears. Pigs are scary looking as it is, without someone tearing off their ears and making them look even huger. Ears make animals look lovable and cute. Not having ears makes them terrifying. I suspect this is also why I dislike snakes.
Our pigs grew and grew and grew. Wilbur and Wilbur were eventually slaughtered for meat, leaving us with just Charlotte.
Charlotte was fucking huge.
I’m talking, 200kg+ huge. HUGE.
She was also the smartest pig and would not stay locked up, behind the safety of the wire. Her favourite place to sunbathe was down in the flower garden, below the house.
Also near the flower garden was our outside toilet.
One day, I went outside to go to the toilet, as you do. I wasn’t in there for very long, before Charlotte realised that someone was outside and came over to the toilet to investigate.
She thought: ‘FOOD! Fooooood foooood foooooooood. Small human might have foooooood’.
I thought: ‘OMFG I’m going to die in here, she’s not going to realise I don’t have any food and knock the toilet down and I WILL DIE. Or she won’t and I’ll be stuck in here forever and DIE. Or I’ll have to leave and she’ll realise I’m leaving, realise that I don’t have any food and trample me and I WILL DIE.’
I was very little and Charlotte was very big. She lay down near the toilet door, effectively blocking me in the toilet, convincing me that death was just around the corner.
I burst into tears and screamed for my mother.
What felt like hours later, my mother heard my tiny little cries for help and called the pig away with some pellets. I’d probably been trapped for no more than 10 minutes, but phobias don’t care about that kind of thing.
Until we sent Charlotte to the market a few weeks later, my toilet trips were fraught with angst and danger and I was convinced that the pig was going to cause my death.
And that is why I’m scared of pigs.
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Wow. I had a similar thing with a rooster, in my mind it was ten times bigger than me although not sure how that could be possible.
I LOVE pigs, we raised quite a few back in the day. Although I haven’t enjoyed roast pork since I unwittingly ate my pet, Gorbachov. He had a little splodge on his forehead. Don’t know what he thought of communism though.
A proper mother would be feeling guilty for causing her child to have a pig phobia. But not me I am pissing myself laughing.
ps. I am glad you didn’t DIE.
pps. you were 5. That was very little.
I also remember that you got bailed up in that same toilet by a stray dog that wandered onto the property and growled at you. You didn’t have much luck going to the loo, did you?
I’m also terrified of pigs, except that I don’t really have all that great of a reason. I just think they look like they would eat me, if they got half a chance. They have beady, evilly intelligent little eyes, and you can tell when you look into them that they are only juuuuust hanging onto the veneer of domesticity, and that with half a chance they’d much rather be chewing on a newborn infant, or something.
The fact that they outweigh me by several hundred pounds and don’t appear to have that “prey” flight drive to be able to manipulate to my advantage (like horses or cows do) doesn’t win them any points either.
Don’t be embarrassed, Veronica. You’re just being sensible.
They sure are tasty though, aren’t they?
Oh bless ya sweety! I can understand why you’d be afraid of such a big animal when you were so little! No pig farming for you then eh? 😉
Yep. That’ll do it I imagine. Goodness gracious! Earless pig. yipes.
I love pigs…….. but cows now that’s another story, they scare the hell out of me 🙂
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I’m glad you didn’t die too.
Phobias are funny things aren’t they?
No wonder pig-rearing is not for you! I’m surprised you haven’t got a phobia about outside loos too!
Hehe I don’t blame you for being scared! I’d be petrified after that. I have a phobia of swans after being chased by what seemed like an entire bevy (had to look that word up) when I was six.
Spiders don’t have ears either. I think you are onto something there.
Although, I do like frogs. And if you ripped the ears off a baby kangaroo it would still be adorable. Bloody, but adorable.
Wait, what were we talking about again?
Heh, I’m surprised you didn’t end up with lifelong constipation after that. And the dog episode.
I don’t mind pigs. As long as they’re ham.
agrh. death by pig 🙁 not pleasant at all
Pigs are awful. This is why I don’t eat pork chops.
And I got bailed up in the outside toot one night by a GHOST! I was terrified and it was the middle of the night and my Mum was asleep on the other side of the house. Then the ghost kindly turned itself into a towel and allowed me to go back to bed.
Pigs are so gross! But yummy to eat. Wonder what the real story behind the pigs ears was?????
Wilbur, Wilbur and Charlotte. That sounds like a torturous childhood game.
At least pigs are large and your phobia makes sense. I was attacked by a swarm of ladybugs when I was a baby (they sting when en masse) and have been weary of them ever since. But people find that hilarious…
PS: I LOVE your header.
Replace the pig with three large dogs around the same and you have an identical story. In mine, one fo the dogs jumped at me as I tried to leave the loo and latched onto my arm. I screamed for what seemed enterntiy and was inconsolable when found by my much older cousin. I remember sitting on my father’s lap, sobbing. It was between Christmas and New Year at my uncle’s home. Ironic that I’m reading now. Also ironic that every dog that bit me (there’ve been 3) was a German Shepherd (or X shepherd) and yet, my first pet puppy when in my 20s was a Shepherd X!
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