Hubert GentleGuy

Grandpa has been barricading his tomatoes against Hubert but the truth is he is turning our yard into a third world country shanty town and, all for naught, because Hubert only goes into the yard when I let him in and he is quite the obedient pig. All I have to do is call out his name and he steers away from the tomatoes. Of course, if there is a tomato leaf sticking out, he's quick to grab a bite. He also likes dandelions but only those hand-picked by my neighbor Juan. Today, I discovered that he likes crabgrass. There are several other plants around the yard that he nibbles at. Junk food includes: pizza crusts, maple syrup, soy nuts, peanuts.

For some reason, although he has a sweet tooth, he will not eat watermelon, sweet peppers, and mangoes. My theory is that avoidance of brightly-colored food enables him to stay away from poisonous mushrooms such as may be found in the jungles of his native Vietnam.

Speaking of jungles, Hubert hates the Sun. He will seek shade wherever he can find it. He loves to plop down on a cold concrete floor and, in the yard, he'll dig up a swath of grass only to plop his belly on the humid earth. I think perhaps his intestines tend to overheat with all the digesting biomass there.

When it comes to defecation, Hubert has a human characteristic in that he prefers to do it hidden from view. Oh sure, he'll output some dastardly torpedoes but when he's alone, he'll seek to do it behind some object. It's almost as if he feels vulnerable when he's alone and seeks protection. When he's with me, he'll drop one wherever he happens to be (I'm not taking offense at this).

We are starting to develop a routine. When he hears that I'm in the yard he'll come out and ask if I have any food for him--I almost always do. We then take a walk around our yard. Sometimes he leads; sometimes I do. At one or two places in our walk he'll nudge my leg and roll over on his side. It's belly scratching time. His belly is soft and I gently scratch him there; but when it comes to his hide, it's rhinoceros-like and for this I use an old saw that I gently drag across his backside. On the way back from the yard, I tell him to go inside (he lives in the basement with my two twin boys--one of whom is Hubert's owner) and he and I part company until next time.

Next time, I'll discuss pig manure.

Hubert the smarty pants

I think I've come up with the final solution to outwit Hubert and his need to scavenge the back yard. I built a stair case of two steps that the dogs can climb but that Hubert will, hopefully, not attempt.

We've decided that Hubert has a very real need to navigate our back yard and that Grandma's flower beds and Grandpa's vegetables must be kept away from Hubert's palate.

Today, I discovered that Hubert is super smart and knows and respects me more so--I'm ashamed to admit--than any of my eight kids. Where did I go wrong? Not enough peanuts and Maple syrup?

I decided to follow Hubert on his excursions and teach him what he's allowed to chow down on and what he' not. Much to my amazement and delight, Hubert loves my neighbor's berry tree. He loves it when I shove a ripe berry into his mouth. I do not ever feel his teeth when I do this; just his little tongue and lip. My neighbor passed away last year but he never ate his berries and I know he would look at Hubert and say, as he did with our Jack Russell terrier, "stupid, ugly ______(fill in animal species; dog, pig)" and then reach out and caress the pet.

Don't get me wrong. Hubert will always try to get away with things. It's his nature to be independent and adventurous. But, if you build barriers, he will respect them if only because there's so much he can do with his snout (his only means of altering his environment.)

At the entrance to my yard, I built stairs that my dogs could climb but that Hubert would view as Mr. Everest (two steps). I'll keep you posted on the efficacy of this technique.

Hubert Porkroll gets a pen.

We had to do it. Hubert took a fancy to our entire yard as his toilet. So, I built him a pen and enticed him into going in it with some nuts (I found out that VPBP's do not like to munch on food hidden within blades of grass preferring to eat what's underneath the root ball. They will, however, find the smallest morsel on flat ground).

Now, Hubert has his private toilet which he likes, and I'm trying to convince Grandpa that pig manure might just be as good as horse or cow for his tomatoes. He says he's afraid and if you saw Hubert you would understand why. Darn pig looks like a demon when he stares at you and only looks pigglely when you lay on the ground and view him from the bottom up. His other end is a tale in itself. How a 3 inch turd can effortlessly make its way thought such a tiny hole is beyond me. I only wish I could embarrass my own hole into opening up for those moments when I get off my vegetarian diet.

Hubert's manners are developing well. He now knows through a series of fancy maneuvers on my part that biting my foot to tell me he's hungry is not appreciated and now lifts up my sneaker and puts it in his mouth without chowing down on it (remember what Hanibal the Cannibal said about pigs and how they could crunch bone with their teeth? I believe it just to look at his massive masseters that endear him to us by making him look chubby and friendly--which he is.

Vietnamese Pot-Belly Pig

Hubert is loved by the entire family. I have come to admire his sense of smell. I could throw Hubert some assorted nuts and even if hidden from sight Hubert can find every last morsel. He'll sometimes be seen to return to a site that once held a morsel. He is the ultra intelligent pet. It is amazing how he tries to communicate what he needs by first, getting your attention (he nudges you or gently bites your shoe) and,then, sniffing the ground or going to his bowl and giving it a nudge.

He's a little rambunctious as when he waits for you to be in a compromising position (kneeling, squatting) and then pushes you as if to say, "let's see how strong you are down here where I roam!"

He's very obedient. You just say his name in a warning voice and he walks away from where he was and doesn't return.

I love Hubert. Now, if I can only inform my Jack Russell and my mixed Terrier that I love them too, perhaps they would accept Hubert into their lives too.