This reminds me of the time our 400 lb minature pot belly pig "William G Davidson" fondly referred to as Willy G ----went to lay under the comforting shade of the Summer skuppernongs - (they're a sort of grape) a little bitter, big, but juicy. Anyway - they are plentyful and grow wild on the back property of the Dragon -*** Ranch. So there is the big pig himself - snorting, grunting, out for his daily constitutional. DF herding him along with his ""ERRrr pig, 'Cmon pig, Ats my boi" - nearly a daily ritual to get the poor fella out of his 1/2 acre enclosure and mud pit. Anyway - this poor, gigantic minature (although after he passed 350 lbs with 5" tusks it was widely supposed he was a mix of feral and minature) pig goes lumbering under the grape arbor and ruts, then snorts, then ruts and squeeeeeeeeels and plops down, ruts a little more and then over he goes.
The ritual continued every night with DF yelling - " "mon Willie, 'mon pig, 'eeer Pig, 'c'mon boy, lets go." and off William would usually come bursting ever so slowly between the vines, at a thundering crawl. Then back lumbering and snorting to his well mudded pen. Well this one particular night close to the end of Summer, when called - Willie was extremely slow to get up. DF walked over finally and Willie was doing his best, and now I was certain diet food and more exercise was in his future. He was too enormous to support his gigantic, bulbous figger - on those tiny little stick legs. Up he'd try, and down he would roll. Up again he would give effort , and back towards the ground - thud..and if you've ever been around pigs - to help them brings the most unholy of eardrum breaking squeals. So no one moved - we just kept watching and finally after several to and fro attempts he made it! But as DF began his "hya pig, comeon pig routine - that pig was wagging his tail, and walking in a zig zag fashion here -----there, back here over there.....down on one knee, and nearly looke as if he were laughing. Then back up - over here - over there. It was everything we could do to get him back to his quonset and with one last out of breath grunt - flopped in the hay.
So now DF and I worried about his health start trying to figure out what is wrong with THE PIG....and he bends down to pet Willy G and as he is looking and kneeling next to him - he discovers that his lips are stained and his breath is......like a wino. Then it became evident what was wrong wtih our lumbering, staggering, happy, fall-down pig - he had eaten fermented grapes and gassed himself.
Henceforth - our pig was known as - Willie the Wino
No nasty pig underwear required.....and no where did anyone know of any AA for swine so we felt it our duty to keep him out of the forbidden fruit, because if you let him out of his pen for one second? He shot over to the vines like a swine possessed.
I'm so glad I didn't click on the advertisement. YIKES!
