Our Middle Prince is very attached to his dogs. This one's name is Demon. His middle name is Derek. We may have the only dogs in the district who have been given second names...But that's not really the point. The point is, Demon Derek went mustering with his Dad yesterday...
He joined some other dogs, and men on horseback to get the job done. Then he smelt a pig. Not your cute, pink, farmyard variety pig, but a big, stinky, ugly, mean, feral pig.
Big, sharp tusks.
I don't have a photo of this pig for you - there's a number of reasons for that. Firstly, I wasn't on the scene at the precise moment of combat. Secondly, you really don't want to see how everyone looked when the encounter was over. Trust me on this.
I arrived after receiving an agitated phone call from the middle prince (by the way...what did rugged, outback mustering men do before mobile phones???) "Come down here quick, a pig just ripped my arm open"...well, if I'm truly frank, there was some slightly more colourful language in there, but this is a family blog, so we'll leave that to your imaginations.
It transpired that Demon Derek - the naughty little fellow - decided he'd rather have a fight with the pig than muster the weaners, and possibly bit off more than he could chew...not difficult since he really has no teeth to speak of. My poor kid flew in to save his dog; his dog let go of the pig; the pig swung around and with his mean, ugly, disease infested tusk ripped open my precious baby's arm!
Eleven stitches, a tetanus booster and a course of antibiotics later, Demon Derek's Dad was home from the medical centre. He threw down a couple of painkillers - and went back to work. As you do.
"Dad, I'm real sorry...I promise I won't go chasing pigs when I'm supposed to be mustering weaners ever again"
**The photos for today's post were taken by the Middle Prince's Princess..thanks my sweet girl!**