Fred's wild hog caper

By By Otha Barham / outdoors editor
Oct. 10, 2003
This opening was a shock to put it mildly. Fred, an old friend from work days in Texas and Washington, D.C., had never revealed a burning desire to deer hunt and the last I heard he had parked his travel trailer near Livingston, Texas. He and Louise motored about the country in the trailer with Livingston as home base.
His call came on Sept. 2, so I immediately knew he wasn't deer hunting with a firearm, but I listened with great interest while he explained. It's not every day that one gets a September phone call from a deer stand in the Texas Hill Country.
For the next several minutes, I listened to this account of my friend's recent endeavors.
Fred, who is from Louisiana where there is an awful lot of water, had bought almost 60 acres in the dry, rocky country west of San Antonio where the couple plans to settle. With no house on the property yet, they parked their trailer and drilled a well; over 300 feet deep!
The place is infested with deer, Rio Grande turkeys and wild hogs, with roadrunners and rattlesnakes thrown in for lighter entertainment. Tripod deer stands, a shelter or two and a couple of wild hog traps were left on the property by the former owners.
Seeds of chaos
The fun started when the couple decided to put some corn in one of the hog traps and see what happened. Well, when they bounced their little pickup up the rocky hill to the trap the next morning, they found six thirty-pound pigs in it.
Fred's quick mind began to process all the facts in the situation; barbequed young pigs taste good; six pigs is a lot of barbeque; the weather is hot and there is no freezer out here; young pigs have big, mean mammas who don't like folks messing with their children and who have long sharp teeth and fast feet.
It was this last fact that motivated Fred to make his first move. He and Louise retreated to the trailer and returned with Fred's .38 revolver. Leaving Louise in the safety of the truck, Fred ventured forth toward the trap, armed with the .38 and keeping an eye on nearby cover. The pigs began to squeal and crash into the sides of the trap with such vigor that the trap was taking heavy hits and Fred feared the commotion was being heard in the western suburbs of San Antonio.
At some point during this phase of the adventure, Fred decided to release the pigs and forget about barbeque. The fact that the continuing loud squeals might summons a four hundred pound sow at any minute may have influenced Fred's decision.
In order to climb on top of the trap to raise its door and release the wild pigs, Fred needed both hands, and one of his was busy holding the .38. So he went back to the truck to deposit the pistol and, amid the pigs squealing, he heard a distinctively different squeal. It was Louise shrieking that she didn't want the loaded pistol in the truck with her. Depositing it outside the truck Fred initiated his plan.
Klutzy release
Once atop the trap, he pulled its door up. But the clamoring pigs retreated to the back of the trap, as far away from Fred as possible. Fred braced the door open and struggled to the back of the trap to scare the shoats forward and hopefully out the door. Just as the herd headed for the opening, Fred tripped over the door rope and the door fell back down, smack in front of the charging pack, while Fred struggled to avoid falling off the unsteady trap.
Eventually he got the pigs out the trap's door and that night he and Louise went to sleep wondering what further adventures awaited them when another day arrived.
At this point I could tell that releasing the pigs was a long and hilarious story that Fred had severely abbreviated just to give me its flavor. I could get the whole story if I go visit them and maybe collect one of the pigs with my rifle after it grows large enough to feed both our families. Before I could suggest that, Fred invited me.
I was relieved that he cut the story short on the phone. It gave me time to stop laughing for a minute and catch my breath.