Hubert, stop faking hunger!

Hubet used to get up in the middle of the night and ask my son to give him something to eat. My son, a pushover for animals, obliged but cursed the day of Hubet's transport to Jersey. But here's the clincher: last week, my son went with his girlfriend's family to P.R. on her graduation party--in that time, Hubet hasn't bothered anyone for midnight snacks.

What this tells me is that, if Hubet thinks he can get away with something, he will. If you present him with a dilemma like his customary afternoon snack never came and he cant' get at you to nudge your foot to get you going to do his bidding, he will fall back on a standard behavior like napping or taking a stroll but only if he has been well-fed. If he's really hungry, I don't think anything will deter him from his carb addiction.


Ever since learning of a pig's most "human" embryology, I have always elevated them amongst the other animals. Recently, though, I've been convinced that certain behavior is innate and nothing you do short of some Cesar Milan modification (yo, my man, don't take any grief from those University Brits who have no appreciation for the work you do), can change things. When Hubet is given food that he thinks he "found" by himself, he will, if you try to pick up any of his found food, snarl at you in such a manner that you instinctively withdraw your hand. When things like that happen, I repeatedly pound his forehead with the soft of my fist. This leviathan can hardly acknowledge it and must surely be thinking, "what the heck, I did see it first, grunt, grunt."

Hubet has gotten more respectful. Last year, he would have just plowed in to Grandpa Melnyk's tomatoes; this year, he travels a memorized route (I think he's at least partially blind). Some other animal, though, got his teeth on some peppers and Grandpa Melnyk built some barrier that the "Man against Wild" man would have built if he had been given an entire minute. Oh, you should see the ghetto in Old Man Melnyk's anti-Hubet fences: wire, old stakes, cardboard, scrap sheet metal. All personal filial people note, I really don't care if you step in front of train to save his life, I will tell the world the truth regardless of consequence--that's what writers and scientists do.

Hubert goes into chill mode

My son started college away from home and, it seems, Hubert hasn't been the same since. He just mopes all day long and lays on his bed and just goes out to poop. He is also a lot less vocal these days even when he's hungry which isn't often. His food often goes uneaten (never his fresh fruit or peanut butter, however). We'd be worried but he really hasn't lost any significant weight. Of course, just laying around how much weight can he lose. He used to like being stroked with a brush; often lying down immediately so as to give access to his belly but that's a thing of the past.

We suspect that he may be sight impaired because he gets awfully close to objects before sidestepping them. He seems to be using his sense of smell to guide him. When walking along a paved narrow walkway, he will swing his head from side to side as if he's smelling either side of the walkway.

I want the old cantankerous Hubert back.

Hubert starts his Summer

Hubert has an excellent sense of timing, as do dogs. At 3PM, Hubert comes out into the yard and waits for me. I have discovered that if you stick to a schedule, you will not hear a peep out of Hubert. VPB pigs are great at figuring things out. When his food sources were random, Hubert did nothing but complain about his next meal.
When we settled into a schedule, Hubert had the patience of Job. Not only that but he seems to require less food! We've cut back on his calories and he's slimming down--well, at least his belly is not as rotund as it used to be.

If you miss his accustomed feeding times, Hubert will be very vocal but if you go up to him, pet him, and tell him some story, he'll shut up and follow you 'cause he knows you mean well. I love Hubert. A few days ago, I found out that he's illegal in our town. His owner, my son, has vowed to move into another, more progressive town in order to keep Hubert from ending up in a petting zoo.

Just a note about his "crankiness." If you chill with Hubert, you will find that he occasionally grunts and tries to "bite you." In the hundreds of times he has done this, he has never bitten me. What I think is happening is that he is frustrated over not being understood, so he feigns belligerence. That's right, he acts like a cranky bastard until you do what he expects from you.

In these situations, I merely scream out in Spanish, "Maricon, hijo de puta," and slap him lightly on the face (I mean LIGHTLY--like you might do if you had to fake it in a Hollywood movie). Hubert will quiet down and wait for you to try and "understand" him. Many of these "attacks" have come when Eddie (our Jack Russell) is around and he wants to let you know that Eddie upsets him. He never has this reaction with Abbey (our pit Bull/Terrier mix). That's because Abbey always shies away from him.

Hubbie and "the dogs"

Hubert hates Eddie. Eddie didn't really do anything to him or at least not anything that we witnessed; but, just to smell Eddie is enough for Hubert to start grunting up a storm. I actually ran an experiment where I petted Hubert with my left hand and then the second I switched overt to my right hand (that had previously petted Eddie), he showed his displeasure. WE NEED a PIG WISPERER. I actually felt Hubert's teeth on my hand.

I'm going to determine if it's Eddie or dogs in general that Hubert dislikes. I'm going to pet Abbie before Hubert and see how he reacts.

Another anecdote with regard to dogs and Hubert is when my daughter, Adrienne, the Veterinary Assistant, came by to visit after work. With her, Hubert was much more of a a "cantankerous bastard," as a friend of the family had pegged Hubert. We surmised that Adrienne, dealing with dogs all day, had--to Hubert--smelled like a dozen dogs caught in the rain.

I've never been as understanding with other animals as I've been with Hubert. I ask myself how I would feel if my only tools for conveying information to a caretaker were a snout, a mouth, and some grunts. I allow Hubert to feign biting me because that's a built in "word" for him to convey displeasure. Hubert, to his credit, always lets me "fight back." He never escalates the fight except perhaps to keep grunting for he must have the last word especially on issues that are important to him (food & chillin).

A quick note on his sense of smell. The other day I poked my head through the basement door. I looked to see if Hubert was around. He wasn't eating so he must have been in his room about 25 feet away from where I stood at the door. It was just a momentary look and I was on my way. As I ascended the stairs to my room, Hubert came out grunting for me.

Hubert's Frosty Winter

I thought Hubert would not venture out on the cold being that he's from Vietnam and is not equipped for the cold but that turned out not to be his main concern.

When faced with snow, Hubert apparently tests the first inch or so and decides that it may be some kind of swamp or quicksand and will not put his full weight on it. I know this because, after shoveling the snow down to the ground, Hubert determined that it was safe and went out to do his business. But, interestingly, not until I left him alone near the door to the outside to contemplate the situation. While I remained at that door, Hubert kept trying to tell me that he would prefer for me to come into the basement and give him some goodies there. I was not about to give in to him and proceeded to walk away into the yard to play ball with the dogs. Sure enough, he was soon in the yard grunting about why he couldn't have stayed in Texas where it was warm all year long. [he was born in Texas].

I also noticed on a previous day, where the ground was covered with just a dusting of snow, that Hubert needs to recognize (smell) the ground. Only after he digged around with his snout did he poop and pee.

Hubert is also terrified of icy conditions. If he detects that he may slide, he does not continue along the same path but finds an alternate route around. Aren't we all like that? Afraid of the road less-traveled.

Hubert is very good at pooping and peeing in areas that are removed from his bedding and his food dish. Yesterday, he had to "go" but Grandma, who usually lets him out in the morning, was not around to open the outside door. Hubert went into my son's (his owner's) room in the basement and pooped there. [My son's room had been left open by Grandpa who needed to make sure that my son, vacationing in Columbia, had not left any heaters on.] I should have suspected something when, later that day, when I took him for his walk, his volume of poop was greatly diminished. My son had told me that these pigs hold their poop for days if they have to in order not to do their business near their living quarters. Ha, Hubert had determined that the operative words were "out of sight" of your living quarters.
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