To hear John Garner tell it, a pet pig
is even more stubborn than a beagle:
She'll do what she wants, never mind
obedience training. She'll root up
carpet with her snout, which is like hard
cartilage. She'll eat anything she can
find — dinner scraps, weeds, whatever's
growing in the garden. At the Flea Off
Market, she's even eaten pork off the
ground. "Food comes before anything
else," Garner says. "Life or death, she
would choose food over me."
Scout, his two-year-old Juliana pig,
has been stealing tomatoes from the
neighbor's garden in Georgetown,
Indiana. When caught with tomato pulp
in her mouth, she tries to run away but
gets tangled in the netting surrounding
the crop and squeals. "It sounds like
you're slaughtering her," Garner says.
A gift from his ex, Scout was small
enough to pick up with one hand
when she was adopted from a farm in
Bardstown. "I would always joke about
wanting a pig and never thought that
I'd be responsible enough to have one.
But then he gave me one," Garner says.
Now she's 25 pounds, the size of a
medium dog. She grows a coarse mane
that stands like a mohawk when she's
annoyed. She grunts when she's happy,
usually when snuggling or getting
belly scratches. "It's definitely not for
everyone. It takes a lot of patience,"
Garner says. "They're not always going
to stay small and cute. You've got to be
willing to love it when it's a little ugly
— Jenny Kiefer