Whenever one of our pigs touches the electric fence, and lets out an impressive heart rendering squeal, Anne and I, in perfect unison, cheerfully proclaim “fence works!”. Our friends look at us in horror, and I guess it probably does seem a bit callous, but anyone who has spent an afternoon trying to retrieve a wayward pig understands our enthusiasm. A little zap on the nose seems like a very small price to pay, to remind the little wanderers which side of the fence is theirs.
What a hoot! Or a snoot! Wonderful fun piece. Can always count on the Clatter Ridge Scribe to give us a laugh on Saturday mornings—this one when we're all fenced in by fridgid temps! Thank you, and scribble on Bobbie!!
OMG love the closer but wish we had a photo!😊
What a hoot! Or a snoot! Wonderful fun piece. Can always count on the Clatter Ridge Scribe to give us a laugh on Saturday mornings—this one when we're all fenced in by fridgid temps! Thank you, and scribble on Bobbie!!
I can only imagine. I once touched a top line on a horse pasture and it felt like someone hit me on the back of my head.
Thanks so much for sharing your story. There’s a lot of love and wonder in your heart