The Life of Nuthin'

 

                         China White pigs; they are mean. Really mean.

Life on a farm can be unforgiving. This usually happens when the sow will reject the piglet(s) at birth if it seems frail in any way. Joining the herd frail or too small meant life or death.

Life was life, and things died—all farm children know the harsh facts. 

 

But, one cold winter day there was a lone piglet that was different. 

Love me for my brains!

He had been rejected by the sow because clearly something was wrong with him.  He had a huge tumor on his left hind leg.  My brother Robert looked down at the piglet in the box as I uncovered it and examined his poor leg.  “It ain’t worth nuthin’.  Should let it die.”

“Nuthin’…that’s what we’ll call him.”  Over the next days and weeks, Robert and I took turns feeding Nuthin’ first from a bottle, and then from a dish.  Nuthin’ grew, and we kept him in a pen in the breezeway until spring came.  By then, Nuthin’ was almost the size of our beagle dog Tuffy, and they played together in the yard.  We called his name, and Nuthin’ came as fast as his crippled leg allowed him.   

 

Spring was moving into May, and Nuthin’ was getting too big to let roam the yard.  Animals reaching adolescence are just like humans; they aren’t the same sweet little kids anymore.  Dad said we had to put him in the barn lot with the three milk cows.  We could still visit him, but playing with him wasn’t an option.  

 

That was when we noticed the tumor on his leg growing.  Day by day, we could see Nuthin’ slowing down, and not eating as much.  One day Nuthin’ lay down, and no amount of convincing could make him move.

The next morning Nuthin’ had disappeared.  No one said much about that, because all farm children know the harsh facts.

 

 First published: Susan Kane  22 March 2011 Robert and I have talked about good ole' Nuthin.over those years since. I had some fond memories, Robert not so much.