What they do is squeal, grunt, mate, and most especially dig. They dig…and dig…and dig. And your sod or mine is their common ground. “Dig we must!” is their motto. They are genius at that. They have evolved brilliantly. They are nature’s rototiller. They uproot grass searching for delectables; worms, grubs, tubers, etc. They can take a level area of grass and within minutes turn it into minor mountain range. And if you add a bit of rain water, a quagmire, that makes the Okeefanokee Swamp look like a spring time puddle soon develops.
If humans could get these sod busters to plow in a uniformed manner, John Deere would soon be out of business.
There are no “alpha” predators here, and I sure hope that no one brings them in…been there, done that.
Can you imagine wolves in Waimea? Mountain lions in Mountain View? Me neither! So it is left to humans to assume the role of mighty hunters. And there are folks who do this deed with dogs and knife or guns. It is a noble heritage.
And it seems like there are over a million pigs running helter-skelter on the island, though I’m not sure who is keeping count. By comparison there are about 180,000 humans. If the pigs ever got organized we’d be in big trouble.
So here in my backyard I am left to assume the role of alpha predator. Trouble is, I’m more of a beta kinda guy. All we are saying, is give peace a chance…
One non-murderous tactic suggested is to pee on the grass where they like to plow. This doesn’t seem to work, even though I’ve processed many gallons in the cause. On a brighter note my kidneys are in tip top condition. I am nothing if I am not well hydrated!
So to the family of pigs that have moved in under my house, I wave the white flag and surrender to my new ungulate overlords.
Looks like I will be keeping kosher from now on.