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ONLINE VERSION | NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2000 |
Melvin and the Pigs |
by Perry Rapier I have a friend by the name of Melvin Reeser who lives down the road from me on a little farm and I would like to tell you about him. Melvin is the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off his back and if he didn't have one to give you, he would go out and get you one some way. He would, and does, lay down his work and go help you do yours. He's just that kind of guy. He's a good man and one that I am proud to call my friend. In fact, he's generous to a fault. So much in fact that often times he just can't say no to people and as a result, he ends up getting into a lot more than he bargained for. I'm not saying people take advantage of him, but because he's so good natured and willing to help anybody at anytime, he's called on a lot more than most people. And he's always ready. Even if it means taking a lot of heat from his wife Deb. As you can imagine, she has to have the patience of a saint to put up with Melvin's ways. It seems that Melvin is either sleeping, working his job at the local factory, or out helping somebody. Now the factory job that Melvin works is called a swing shift. That's where you work the first shift one week, the second shift the next week, the third shift the next week, and then you start all over again with some relief days mixed in there somewhere. He's tried to explain his relief days to me and how he gets them on this certain day this week but not next week. The most I can do is say uh-huh and let it go at that. Suffice it to say that a day off in the summer during daylight hours to Melvin is a much cherished event. It was on such one of these cherished relief days that Melvin was asked if he would haul a load of feeder pigs to the market about 30 miles from his house. Now these feeder pigs belonged to Melvin's father-in-law who was on vacation at the lake and was all set up with his camper and therefore did not have time to haul the pigs himself. For those of you who don't know what a feeder pig is, it is a young pig that weighs anywhere from 40 to 50 lbs. It takes them a few weeks from birth to hit this weight. When they hit this weight they are then ready to be marketed as feeder pigs. Hog farmers buy them and feed them out to 240 to 260 lbs., or market hogs. It just so happened that Melvin's father-in-law's pigs were ready the week that his father-in-law had to be at the lake for his vacation. Therefore, the job of getting these hogs to market fell on Melvin. It was his day off so he, therefore, had plenty of time to do it. And he wouldn't have nobody botherin' him ‘cause he would get to do all the work himself. Now Melvin had just recently got a brand new 3/4 ton, heavy-duty Ford Pickup truck. He also had a nice red stock trailer that more or less matched up with his new truck. When he was approached about hauling these hogs, the first thing that popped into his mind was all that work. But then he got to thinking, well the hogs do need to be hauled, he ain't here to do it, I do have a day off, I got this new truck, I got this nice trailer, and it would give me a chance to work my new truck and help somebody out. Plus, Melvin was also thinkin' just a little bit deeper. Here he comes down the road, driving that big, new 3/4 ton, pulling that nice trailer, loaded with them 25 head of hogs, that would be something! And what about when he pulled that outfit into the stockyards and made that big circle so he could back up to the dock to unload them pigs. All them other farmers and truckers would be so envious that it made Melvin blush just to think about it. Yes, yes he could do it and he would. So Melvin drove his outfit over to his father-in-law's farm and backed in to load the hogs. However, he couldn't get backed up just right so he could run the hogs onto the trailer. The closest he could get to the barn was a few feet away from the door. This meant that he was going to have to catch each hog and wrestle him onto the trailer. Now this might not sound like much but I will bet that there are not too many people who have wrestled a 50 lb. pig. Let me tell you, they are very strong and they do not like being separated from the rest of the bunch and they'll fight you every step of the way. Grab hold, hang on, and watch out for their teeth, ‘cause they do bite. Not only did Melvin have to run to catch the pig, he had to wrestle him to the door of the pen, hold the pig with one hand while he opened the door to the pen with the other hand, then close the door, then wrestle the pig to the trailer, hold the pig with one hand again while he opened the trailer door, lift the pig into the trailer and then close the door to the trailer. All the time the pig is fighting for his life and squealing so loud that it makes your blood boil and deafens you all at the same time. And while this is going on all the rest of the pigs are squealing too. Now he had to do this 25 times. Like most of us over 40 he carries a few extra pounds and so this didn't make the job any easier. As you can imagine when he got all them hogs on there, he was worn out, sweaty and smelled just like one of them pigs because more than a few done their business on him while he was wrestling them. When he got the last one on and the trailer door closed, he felt pretty good about himself. He got them hogs on there, they didn't best him, and he done it all by himself. He pulled the truck out of the barnyard and away he went. It was just like he imagined, going down that road, driving that big nice 3/4 ton Ford pickup truck, pulling that trailer, them hogs just riding pretty as you please. Only he hadn't imagined he would be all sweaty, dead tired and smell like one of the pigs. The 30 miles went by without any problem and by the time Melvin got to the outskirts of the town he was going to, he was feeling pretty smug about himself. Yes Siree, another successful job, a man can do about anything when he puts his mind to it. When Melvin pulled up to the stockyard he didn't have any trouble getting in. He didn't have to wait in line before he made that big circle. But where were all the other truckers and farmers always standing around, shooting the breeze and watching all the trucks come in and the animals being unloaded? In fact, where was anybody at? Melvin couldn't believe his eyes when he didn't see anybody. The whole place was as empty as a ghost town. It seems somebody got their wires crossed as to what day the stockyard was open and what day the hogs were supposed to be there. To this day the jury is still out on who made that mistake. At any rate Melvin was not a happy camper. The only thing to do now was to turn around and take the hogs back home. Before he could get out of town a big rain blew up and the rain just poured. The streets were very wet. While going through an intersection Melvin was a little late or a little early at a traffic light, however you want to look at it. The road was very slick anyway and the oncoming car could not get stopped and so hit Melvin right behind the door on the driver's side. When the ambulance left with the lady, who is all right by the way, and the fire truck left after washing down the gasoline, and the cop left after writing him a ticket, Melvin was left all alone with that load of hogs and his wrecked truck. After prying out the fender some, the truck was still driveable. After Melvin got back to the farm with the load of hogs, he had to unload them, one by one, and all that wrestlin' and dragging, just as he had loaded them. When the hogs went to the sale barn the next time Melvin didn't take them and, in fact, he has given up truckin' hogs but he'll still do about anything else. Just don't ask him to haul hogs. |