"Crack!" The .223 slug slammed through "The Kill Zone" and dropped the big sow to her knees. Her massive bulk rolled slowly to the side. The sickening crunching sound of twigs and dead branches oozed through the stillness. The piglets scattered. Only one was caught.

I have heard versions of this scenario many times when people feel obligated to justify the result of their hunts. This little piggy went to market. This little piggy would have been better of if left in the West Texas scrub. We named him Pete and he was rounded up by animal control and brought to the Living Materials Center. Wild pigs as pets, has mankind gone mad?

Pete is pretty tame and notice I did not say domesticated. He is a feral hog. He is the product of swine that have escaped from farms and over many generations have become wild. So what if he's leash broken and potty trained? That works well with a ten-inch tall piglet. How will that translate when he stands four feet at the back, weighs six hundred pounds and is vying for space on the couch! The situation hardly ever advances that far and the poor animal ends up in a city park being chased by neighborhood dogs. Or, he becomes road kill and the only memory of his existence is an exciting party story.

I do not whine for the feral swine when overpopulation causes crop and property damage in West Texas. I do have a problem with "big game hunters" who participate in canned hunts or use dogs to corner and kill these beasts. They rationalize by saying they eat what they kill. I can't tell you the number of times we have received freezer burned feral hog pork here as donations for animal food. Then they ask for a tax receipt!

I can imagine that this little piggy was put out when he outgrew the doggy door, put the bite on the owner with his growing razor sharp incisors, or began to wee, wee, wee, wee all over the home. We will find a nice farm for Pete.