A song for Harold

An ode to the naughtiest pig in the herd…

Naughty pig, naughty pig,
Does whatever a naughty pig does.
Can he stay
In his pen?
No he can’t
He’s a pest.
Look ooouuuttt!!!!
He is a naughty pig!!

For the past week, young Harold (who you have yet to meet due to a lack of photos) has decided that being fenced in is not the done thing if you’re a young pig called Harold. BmS readers will recall that upon the birth of Scrumpy’s piglets, Harold, her erstwhile companion, went to stay with Uncle Bailey and Auntie Brini. During the night, however, young Harold ran away all the way home.

Since then, he’s barged through the (not actually switched on due to an overgrowth of undergrowth) electric netting on a daily basis, but yesterday B and I moved the pair of them and the piglets to a nice grassy patch and I crossed my fingers in the hope that he would stay put. And so he did. Yesterday. But instead of heading home early for my last night with B before she vanishes for five days due to her work, I’ve had to spend the afternoon setting things up properly so I could switch the fence on, in the hopes that a short*, sharp shock will keep him in. I’ve just switched it on and was glad to see that it only took two minutes for him to get said shock. But the question is this – will he ignore the pain and break through it regardless? To find out, I’ve not fed them yet, so it’ll be a while before I can go home…

Altogether now…….

Naughty pig, naughty pig…

One response to this post.

  1. A fine poem, and worthy of a fine nuisancey young pig like Harold. An extra ‘oink!’

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