The Fallen~Sparrow~Hawk;Notice; Goats and Pigs

Notice: Goats and Pigs, April 25, 2002

I hereby give notice that I cannot permit tenants to keep goats and pigs in their farm houses the mischief done to fixtures and fittings by these awful beasts is incalculable. Not least, the awful stench inhaled when my sheriff calls to collect due tithes is appalling and shall not be tolerated.

Tenants found keeping them after this notice will be subject themselves to my displeasure. Eviction shall immediately ensue without further notice or warning.

By order of the honourable

Lord Laurence Waldran

Lord of the Manor

This notice, a genuine enamel affair was discovered when Jeff, Stuart and myself were on our way to collect Napoleon, and copied by me on our return to the Machars.

Our arrival found Alison tearful in the car park. The appearance

of an un-quorum pig exasperated her patience with the increasingly volatile Jeff, heretofore referred to as The Dagda.

The arrival of Vicky, Kevin and Mark from Talamh formed an instant team to carry pig and cage to a designated terrace very close to the Doon.

The team of porters were made up of Stuart, Kevin, Brett, Mark and me.  Two ash poles were put through the cage and secured as handles as those on a sedan chair or the type used to transport the statue of the Virgin Mary in many Spanish festivals. Our passenger was nothing holier than our new acquisition, Napoleon.

The cage weighed a ton and, heaved up on four shoulders, we edged ourselves forward along the rough path past the gardens, staggering and stumbling under our load. Feet sunk deeper into mud than ever before under our charge. Weight redistributed regularly on the wandering whim of the pig. We developed a rota system whereby one rested while four changed places and shoulders, as yard by grunting yard we edged our way towards Napoleon’s new paradise.

New paths had to be cleared, branches hacked away and the bridge made secure by additional planks. Damnait, with Ishtar (her one year old boy) walked ahead singing a vague Irish air.

Over a plateau of bracken and finally Napoleon was home. Four hours to cover a distance which normally took twenty minutes. It took a while to erect the solar panel charged electric fence, in the meantime, the women arrived with a picnic and the children in tow and we all ate while Napoleon slept or cowered in his cage. The fence erected, he was released into his new home.