Pig Stories





White Wilbur (1992-2009)

 Summer 1997....

The first days were one of the saddest of stories. Wilbur was five, bonded to his "mom" and she had to move and could not take him. They had been such close companions that when brought here, Wilbur decided to just die. I had to force feed him, drag him in out of the rain, beg him to get up... make him live long enough to take an interest in a new life. After 2 months he finally started coming out of it. And his "mom" came to visit for a few days, which helped him realize his life had some continuity after all. After she left he began to settle in and she made plans to visit as often as she could.

Then she was diagnosed with cancer, a particularly bad one. After her chemo was over and she could travel she came to see him again. They were so happy to see each other. He ran in circles and she laughed and cried and it was wonderful. But she was still weak and got sick and had to leave. White Wilbur lay in the driveway after she left, staring after her with despair in his eyes and tears running down his face. He lay there all night, refusing to go to his barn to sleep. Perhaps he sensed what I didn't. She wouldn't be back.

Wilbur settled in and for the next 12 years was a face everyone came to know and love.  A good natured boy who got along with everyone and wanted nothing more than to be fed and bedded down in deep hay and given a kind word and a belly rub.

Last night White Wilbur passed away from  liver disease. Today, as I sadly buried him, I knew his life had been a good one, a life full of all the good things and good people who loved him.

For those of us who are comforted by the allegorical imagery of the Rainbow Bridge, this morning, on a bright crisp fall day, White Wilbur went racing to the Bridge to rush headlong into his "mom's" waiting arms, home for eternity.


      White Wilbur never made an enemy or had cross words with any pig or person, a real gentleman from his first day til his last.