Bringing home the bacon.

Bad news on the homestead. Woke up Saturday morning and couldn't find my pig.

I figured she was out roto-tilling some portion of the yard, as usual. So I called her. Usually she comes when I call her. Alas, no snorting pig came running. I went out in the yard in the couple of acres she usually grubs in. No pig. JP happened to be around so I enlisted his help (yes, I know, you told me so, and I said this wasn't going to happen, and all that stuff, but that is a whole different blog). We spent a couple of hours canvassing about two square miles of brush. It was funny to see a Jamaican man in the brush in Tehachapi calling for a pig. We're lucky there wasn't a prison break that day. Yes, that was wrong, but kind of funny. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Hogitha.

So I went to neighbors' houses and asked if they'd seen a pig roaming around. The usual response was, "You have a pet pig?" Yes, and five cats, and some ducks, and I'm your new neighbor, expect to see a camel and some zebras every now and then too. And don't even try to bring a trailer in because I'm above that.

None of the neighbors had seen the pig. Then I made a little flier to put in the mailboxes:Of course, the mailboxes are 2.5 miles from my house and I can only see one neighbor from my house (other than the tin behemoth that still hasn't been towed), so odds are that poor old Hogitha roamed off into the brush and got lost or got taken by some wild creature. Or she met a nice boar who took her under a bush and now she's knocked up and embarassed to come home with half-boar piglets on the way. I'm hoping for the latter but fear something bad has happened.

So I'm a bit bummed about it because those of you that know me, know Hogitha and know she's been with me for a long time and was just about the best pig a gal could have.