Fencing with Boris

I really did not want to start my day having a wet nose 'smozzled' in my ear with sweet oinks being whispered to me. But that is how it was when Boris decided that he should help replace the fencing that divides up his pen.

Works Inspection

A couple of years ago we split the pen in two so we could grow sugar beet for extra feed for the pigs in the autumn months.   Plus surplus seed potatoes and marrow/courgette plants were put in there, which gave us the option of more potatoes and squashes for us or more for the pigs.

Each year, after the veg has been harvested, we swap Boris and the veg growing area around. This means Boris and, sometimes a sow, gets to weed the area.  Boris was never impressed with his area being made into two and is always grumpy, for a few days, after he is moved.

For us this arrangement has worked reasonably well, but as it was initially an experiment the fencing I put in was therefore temporary.  It lasted for two years but this year Boris managed to get through a section and it didn't take long for him to push down a repair. So proper fencing was needed.

So yesterday I set out to replace it and Boris helped!  The digger made a good bottom scratching place and directing the post hole borer was great fun.  He checked all the posts with a gentle shove and pulling the (guide) line around was a favourite pastime.  Every tool had to be checked out and made slobbery and the tub of staples needed to be tipped out and counted.   

Not Near Me, Please

Drooling down my back and pushing me over with, what I took to be, piggy laughter, was taken as playful fun, but I now see was a tactic to stop me re-doing the fencing   I managed to tape this sound and then played it back to him.  Big mistake.  He thought there was another boar in his pen.  He stood absolutely still for a few seconds and then charged at me.  A hasty retreat was made!  Especially with those tusk heading towards my leg.

New Fence

Once the posts were tamped in they needed to be tested for firmness - all pasted but one, which had a nice knotty bit to itch one's rump on.  When it was time to put the netting on it was deemed necessary that I needed a hand to unroll it - into a tangle! Ducking under the netting when it was being attached was a hobby too far.  To the shouts of 'Boris, go away' (or similar), and when he realised that this fence was going to happen whatever, he eventually gave up helping and headed for an afternoon snooze.

We Are Not Impressed

Things then progressed much quicker and the fencing was soon completed.  Boris snoozed and grunted throughout the final works keeping one occasional eye on things whilst he sulked.  And on completion I asked him what he thought?  Without a second thought he raised his tail, wiggled it and let out a massive fart!  You're obviously not impressed then Boris!