Chapter 11
Seemed everyday John was learning what to do on a farm and more painfully what not to do. It doesn’t make the boss happy when you bury the tractor up to the axles in mud because you were stupid enough to try to drive through a low spot in a field full of water. Gus had to pull him out with another tractor and never said a word, which spoke volumes.
He did manage to do more right than he screwed up but he pulled some pretty bone-headed mistakes those first few weeks. He ran over a stump with the brush hog and it took Gus half a day to repair the damage to the equipment. He didn’t know how to weld, knew nothing about working on tractors, and was half afraid of the cows until it finally dawned on him it wasn’t the cows he needed to worry about but rather just the bulls.
One day a neighboring farmer came by to see if Gus could help him castrate some hogs. Farmers are always helping each other; it’s just the code of the business, actually more of a reason to socialize with your neighbors and build a network of support in the event you ever actually needed any help. Of course Gus said he’d be there first thing in the morning. These two old farmers had known each other for decades and had spent many cold snowy days comparing notes over the years. Gus never had any hogs on the farm, he actually didn’t like the damn things and didn’t like the fact that some years you could make money on them and other years go bust.
The next morning John showed up for work and as the old man and his farmhand had a cup of coffee on the porch, Gus enlightened John that they would be going over to Smitty’s to help him castrate his damn hogs.
Gus, John and Lucky loaded up into the truck and drove over to Smitty’s farm. John smelled the pigs long before they even pulled into the drive. He wondered how anyone could live with that smell.
Harold Smith was a nice guy but John noticed right away his teeth were brown as dirt and there was some kind of brown stain on his otherwise white beard. John then noticed the bag of tobacco in the front pocket of his overalls. He apparently didn’t own a razor as he hadn’t shaven for many years. He kind of looked like a dirty Santa Claus.
The two old farmers talked for a while about the weather, politics and rising cost of doing business and then decided to get started on the hogs.
Harold must have had sixty or seventy piglets’ in the furrowing house. The giant sows were lying on their sides in large cages with their babies running around them with bars to protect them from being squashed by their mothers. Over in another area were the pigs that were to be castrated. They were a little older than the babies but still not anywhere near full grown. Their testicles had dropped and it was time they “lose” them.
Without a word Harold handed Gus a razor knife and they stepped over the railing into the enclosure and grabbed a pig. They squealed as the men placed them between their legs with their butts facing out. Then, to John’s horror they grabbed the testicles of the poor little pig and without delay sliced their scrotum open with the knife, the pigs squealed insanely as the men reached into their scrotums and grabbed a hold of their testicles and with a quick yank removed them with some kind of string like things still attached to them.
John thought he was going to pass out. He felt sick to his stomach and had a sudden intense pain in his groin area. The pigs continued to scream as they did pig after pig. It was like John was watching a horror movie. He just stood there frozen and thanked God neither Harold nor Gus had asked for any help.
In about twenty minutes it was all over. The two blood covered farmers said something to John like, “It don’t hurt em,” but he wasn’t buying that. Nothing screams like that if it don’t hurt like hell. They smeared some kind of antibiotic cream on where the poor little pig’s testicles used to be.
The two old guys washed up and soon Gus and his farm hand were in the truck headed back to the farm. Harold had thanked Gus for his help flashing his brown teeth as they drove off.
John was never happier to get out of somewhere as he was to get off of Harold Smiths farm. Gus glanced across the cab of the truck and noticed John looked white as a sheet. “You okay?”
John said after a little delay, “I don’t know.” The two men then laughed as John said, “I’m really glad you don’t have any pigs.”
John remembered thinking if there was such a thing as reincarnation he certainly did not want to come back as a little boy pig.
The Pride of Howard County Page 12