I sure don’t know, but as the words come, I guess I’m about to find out. Soon after, so will you. Kalua, after about 20 years of life, passed away about 5pm, July 24, 2008.
I can remember back to the beginning when my wife REALLY wanted a pig. I didn’t, but this was different. It was more than how she normally wanted something, forgetting about it the next week. So, unbeknown to her, I found newly-born pot belly pigs for sale early in November, what now seems like a lifetime ago. I remember when Yvonne woke up on her birthday. I told her there was something special waiting for her in the kitchen. I’m sure she thought I had made her favorite breakfast. Trapped in the kitchen and laundry room in our house in Smuggler’s Gulch was a whiny six week old little black bullet for her to discover when she came down from our bedroom. Kalua is not only a drink; it is also the Hawaiian way of cooking pork in the ground. This little black bullet was so named in a joking fashion ‘in case things didn’t work out’.
I remember Kalua snuggling up between my legs, sitting on the floor in front of the fire during the cold of winter. She would lie on her back, feet pointed toward the sky, positioned for what she always wanted most: a belly rub. I remember a family party when Uncle Victor would grab my cousin Marie’s (Pee Wee) beer, giving the pig a long drink. Boy did Kalua love beer, and boy was Pee Wee steamed when she discovered Kalua helping her drink her beer! I can remember Kalua coming up to my wife in the kitchen, squealing at the top of her lungs, and peeing on Yvonne’s foot. By that time she was changing from baby to teenager. We immediately learned that pig PMS was no laughing matter.
Kailua soon got fixed, and all was well. She was rapidly becoming too much to manage in the house, so with the help of my dad, I built her a custom pig barn in the backyard. That was to remain her home as long as we lived in Smuggler’s Gulch.
Things devolved on the home front: Yvonne and I had to part. The pig couldn’t move back to Hawaii with her, so she was in my care for the long term. Starting with the gulch there were several moves until her final “retirement” days. She stayed with my sister’s son-in-law where Myrna and her husband were temporarily living. She then stayed with my friend Jane for six months while I was clearing ground and building a pasture and shelter at my new digs in Lake Stevens. When completed, Kalua came to Lake Stevens, along with her friend Rowdy, one of Jane’s goats that made friends with the pig. Later a neighbor across the fence thought goats were cool and bought two. Because of not knowing what he had gotten himself into one of them died. He asked me to take the other. So that is when Rusty joined the family.
From Lake Stevens, the next (last) move was to Bothell. A new partner came into my life. She found a house for rent that actually served both of our needs, something neither of us thought could happen. The Bothell house was on two fenced (sort of) acres and had a real barn. So a year and a half ago, Kalua began her retirement phase with a real barn to sleep in as well as plenty of land she could roam on and graze. During the last couple of months, she began to show her age. Kalua wasn’t moving as far from the barn, and sleeping seemed to be her activity of preference. As with most pigs, during her active life she was a voracious eater. But her food intake became less: she ate more slowly. I sat with her while she ate to keep the goats from stealing her food. Kalua was getting very old for a pig. At times I had to hand feed her. These were good days of a special bonding, even though they signaled the winding down of a long and happy life. During those sunset days Kalua and I became much closer. Some of you are laughing now, while others may be tearing up as my eyes are moistening. How could you become friends with a pig? It happens.
Kalua wasn’t born to bacon. She was born & bread because there was a craze at the time for potbelly pigs. People bought them and in a few weeks found out they were too much trouble for busy lifestyles in a condo or subdivision. It’s sad but true. Most of the animals were discarded or simply set free in the wild. When she came into our house in the gulch only six weeks after her birth, she became our responsibility from cradle to grave. The responsibility, ultimately, came to me.
Animals aren’t people. I hear that all the time from people who just don’t understand the bond that blooms between many people and their pets. I agree. I don’t know of any people who give so completely, without regard to their health, their safety, and even their lives. I know that pets require nothing in return for their care but a little food and water, a scratch behind the ears, or an occasional rub along their back. Although Kalua wasn’t a dog or cat, still these thoughts bring back the memory of her sitting between my legs as a baby, feet to the sky, getting a belly rub with a contented smile on her face (pigs do smile!).
My vet made his feelings known to my sister when she had to take her old and dying cat to be put down. He firmly believed that animals have souls, that God takes the soul into His arms when they pass away. He said this with tears as she was leaving her old friend. I have to believe what he felt is true. There are many people who believe that animals were put onto this earth for the use of humans, to do with what they wanted. I guess that means loving them is ok. To some, torturing them, abusing and even killing them is okay too if that brings the person pleasure. I guess we can all believe what we want, but I can never agree with those who say animals are ours to do with what we want. They are a precious gift that gives constant pleasure, joy, and a love that must be returned.
Animals are God’s creatures just as we are. If you love them, or even just give them shelter, food and water, they will give you everything they have, which isn’t much, and is everything at the same time. They will give you their undying love and devotion forever, be you rich or poor, kind or mean. If God loves us the way I think He does, how could He not give that same love to our animals, which care for our hearts through good times and bad, for as long as they live?
On Thursday when Kalua passed, I could see her in my mind. She was walking in a special place on a wooded, winding path. She was looking for Oxcart and Digger (dogs that have passed) to walk down the path with her, to show her where the pig chow was.
I guess this is really for more than just Kalua, the words spilling from my head to my keyboard. It is also a tribute Oxcart, Digger, Smidgen, Crankshaft, Chip, Dr. Watson, and of course Duchess as well. Beyond my human friends, many of whom are receiving this tribute, and of course to my family, past and present, these creatures have consistently been my best friends. They have taught me, like no other creatures on this earth, how to become a better person.