Pig in the City

Even when Jean and I first started having kids, we thought it was important to maintain our 'date night' once or twice a month.

When Zach was 2 we had one of these date nights and when we returned to our apartment at about 11:00 PM, Jean said she'd take the babysitter home because I was very tired. I had already fallen asleep when I heard Jean screaming, "Bruce, you have to come here to see this!"

Of course I was skeptical. How could there be anything worth me getting out of bed to see this late at night?

I put my clothes back on and walked down the stairs to find Jean and some other guy looking at a small pig in the parking lot.

We were living in San Antonio, Texas, the 10th largest city in the United States. We purposefully left the farm years earlier, but here was a pig in middle of our parking lot!

Not really knowing what to do, I decided to chase the pig (I was probably not fully awake.) After chasing the pig around the corner of the apartment building, I finally had it cornered. With nothing else to do I picked it up.

If you've ever tried to pick up a pig, you've probably experienced this. They don't go quietly.

This little pig started squealing. It squealed long and loud. I remember thinking that this pig squealing sounded like a woman was being murdered. I looked at Jean and the other guy as if they knew what I should do, but they didn't.

After walking a few feet, I had enough of the squealing and I put the pig down. It ran back around to the front of the building where something even more unbelievable happened.

A man in Dickie pants and knee-high rubbers (boots) appeared. Not really knowing how to respond, I asked him, "is this your pig?" He never acknowledged me, but instead pointed his finger at the pig and said, "Where have you been? I can't turn my back on you for a minute without you wandering off." He then turned and started walking away, and I swear the pig put his nose down as if he was feeling ashamed and he followed this guy.

The young man walked to a pickup truck, which I recall looking like a '49 Chevy which was also completely out of place (this would have been 1992.) Then he opened the door and the pig jumped in!

This whole experience was completely bizarre. Did it really happen? I saw it with my own eyes, but when we told our friends about the ordeal, we were met with understandable disbelief.

About 6 months later Jean and I went to the apartment complex pool with Zach. As we arrived, we saw another young couple there. When the man in this couple saw us, he screamed, "There they are, that's them!" He told his wife that we were the two who also witnessed the pig in the city that night. He said to us, "Tell her it's true! Tell her about the pig! She doesn't believe me!"

We told her, but I still don't think she believed us.

This is one of the first of about 500 family stories I promised my kids I'd write down sometime.

Ants in My Pants

Jean and I moved half-way across the country to San Antonio Texas while we were still newlyweds. When we got to Texas, there were many new things we needed to learn.

We didn't have much furniture: A bed, a table and two bean-bag chairs. One time there was an elderly gentleman that visited us from a church we had attended. After he asked if he could come into our small apartment to talk, I offered him a bean-bag chair to sit on. Oh, how embarrassing, especially when he had to roll onto the floor before he could get up out of the chair!

I also had a computer, of course. Since I didn't have a desk or chairs for our table, I just put it on the floor where I would spend hours every day laying in front of it.

Soon I noticed welts appearing on the parts of my skin which came into contact with the carpet. The undersides of my arms, the tops of my toes, and the part of my belly which wasn't covered by my shirt was having a reaction to something in the carpet.

When I reported this to the apartment complex management, they assured me that they had the carpet cleaned and they had only used a mild soap while doing so. No one else had ever complained of having a reaction to the carpet before.

When I returned to the apartment, I took another look at the carpet and realized that if I looked closely, it was moving! It turns out that fire ants (a new phenomenon for us, too) came into our apartment seeking moisture, which was found in our newly-cleaned carpets. Eventually the carpet dried, and the fire ant problem subsided.

Shortly after this, I had found a job working for an electrical contractor. This wasn't a glamorous job, I spent most of my time digging ditches for the more tenured electricians and I would often return home in the evenings with my clothes drentched in sweat.

Early one Saturday morning we were awakened by our doorbell. Our neighbor had received a delivery for us the day before and she wanted me to come to her apartment to get the 9 packages from her. (Incidentally, the packages contained another computer. Thanks Virginia!)

In my haste to answer the door, I quickly put on the clothes I had by the bed, which were my sweaty work clothes from the day before.

Shortly after I entered our neighbors apartment, I realized my mistake. The moisture in my work clothes had attracted fire ants, and now they were beginning to bite every imaginable part of my body. Jean usually picks up the story here and says that all she remembers is my yelling 'thank-you' at our neighbor, slamming the door and screaming through the apartment as I stripped off my clothes!

I wish I could say that all that was hurt was my pride, but obviously this wasn't true.