Tell me about pot-bellied pigs, writes Richard of Belmont. I’ve cared for dozens of animal species, professionally and personally, including one pot-bellied pig who arrived at the shelter so young that several months of home care were essential. The size and shape of a Clorox bleach bottle tipped on the side, little Hamlet came home to join the cats, dogs, lovebird and bearded dragon. Within days, the dogs taught him to head to the backdoor for potty breaks and how best to beg for treats. He proved highly intelligent and trainable (not necessarily the same thing) and he also proved to be very much an individual.
My wife is the most loving person anyone’s ever met and is always our animals’ favorite. Carolyn always pictured herself walking a pig on a rhinestone leash and took this opportunity to lavish attention. Hamlet adored her. He found me, however, an unwelcome distraction. Sure, he’d join the dogs racing to greet me at the end of the day, but once my guard was down he’d either pee on or bite my ankle, race off squealing away in high drama swine style eliciting a “What did you do?” from my loving spouse. Willing to be just one of the pack himself, Hamlet was not interested in letting me remain the man in my wife’s life (Have to admit that while I found his ‘tude pretty funny I did start calling him Son of Spam).
Pot-bellies are intelligent, trainable, tolerant if not affectionate of other animals (but not necessarily of husbands); a big personality, and sometimes a big body to match. Although Hamlet arrived with a breeder’s “certification of purebred pot-bellied pig,” proper care kicked off a growth spurt which quickly proved he would well outgrow expectations. Happily a vegan co-worker had space at her farm. I’ve since heard of this scam many times: adorable little guys who grow sofa-sized. Potential pig people beware. You may end up with a real space hog!
Ken White is the president of the Peninsula Humane Society & SPCA.