Wasn’t a very good year for wild boar here. First, there was that one that apparently got hit by a car by our landlord’s house and died in the road there. Then there was that one that got trapped in the boar cage that our neighbor Jim probably had to shoot. Well, today capped off all of that.
I went out to the windmill mid morning to turn on the well pump. Was just hanging out there, timing the pump, talking to the cows that were lounging under the trees nearby, etc. Then I saw this movement behind a clump of sage that was between the windmill and the trees.
It was way too small for even a baby cow, and at first I thought it was a large gopher. But it moved again, so I snuck closer… and it was a largish black BOAR! (Wasn’t so large laying down.) It seemed to flail it’s legs around, but was laying on its side and didn’t seem able to get up. When it smelled me (I was only like TEN feet away!) it snorted a few times but still couldn’t get up.
I went downwind from it then to look closer. I couldn’t see any wounds or anything. So I came back and called our landlord (Chuck). The boar might have gotten shot or SOMETHING that I couldn’t see, or maybe it was just sick – in any case it wasn’t doing well. On the phone, the landlord said that it sounded like it needed to be finished off.
So Chuck cames over and I hopped in the back of his camouflage pickup and we drove right out to the trees. The boar was barely moving then – not even moving its legs as much as it was when I was out there before. Chuck told me to stand on the other side of the truck just in case the cows stampeded. So I did that. Then he pulled out his rifle, which I think he said was a .32, a deer rifle, and shot the boar. The legs kicked for a moment more and then it went quiet. The cows got up and moved away a little but didn’t freak out.
After a few moments, I noticed a pool of blood had formed around the boar’s head. Then, we walk around a bit, Chuck tried to find an old indian mortar stone to show me, but can’t – probably got buried in the flood or something. As we’re walking I feel that bit of ENERGY sort of ripple past me – just a bit, but I know the boar is GONE fully then. (I was distinctly reminded of when John and I went to the vet to have Dusty, John’s 13 yr. old dog to sleep – he said he felt a rush of energy as Dusty ‘left’.)
Chuck said that there weren’t many acorns this year and that the boar looked a bit skinny. He’s going to just leave it there in the field and said it will be gone in a few days – coyotes or other boar will take care of it.
So that’s that. I don’t know what that’s all about but it’s been a strange year for boars. And for me, come to think of it. John missed out on all three of these boar creations, and they were all about DEATH somehow. To end this on a more ‘up’ note I’ll quote Albus Dumbledore, “To the well ordered mind, death is but the next great adventure.” Hope I got that right!