TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/012290/0122140.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 3.8 KB | 84 lines

                                                                                LIVING, Page 54

This Little Piggy Ate Roast Beef


Domesticated porkers are becoming the latest pet craze


    You might call it buying a pig in a poke. Fifteen months
ago, Ronald and Mary Kalish of Arizona adopted Sir Francis
Bacon (Frank, for short) as a pet, and their life has never
been quite the same. After supper, when the family gathers
around the TV, Frank will squeal and howl if the channel is
switched from his favored westerns or cartoons. Come bedtime,
there is only one place where he will sleep: on the Kalishes'
king-size mattress, snuggled between Mary and Ronald. If
reproved, Frank may try to urinate on the offender's foot. Yet,
far from feeling hog-tied by their demanding household
companion, Mary says of the experience, "I've loved every
minute of it."

    A pig Frank truly is, but not the ordinary, hefty domestic
animal known as Sus scrofa. He is a Vietnamese potbellied
porker, a miniature breed on the verge of becoming America's
trendiest pet -- at least where zoning laws permit -- and one
of its priciest (a well-bred sow reportedly sold for $34,000).
About one-tenth the size of the average Hampshire pig, mature
potbellies weigh from 70 lbs. to 150 lbs. and stand
coffee-table tall. Bright and affectionate, the primarily dark
gray or black porkers will happily feed on Purina Lab Mini-Pig
Chow Grower, or on almost anything that falls off the dinner
table. On the downside, they can outroot gophers in ruining a
manicured lawn, and they love to knock telephone receivers off
their cradles and poke the touch-tone dials with their
sensitive snouts.

    Sir Winston Churchill once observed that dogs look up to us,
cats look down on us, but pigs treat us as equals. Mary Kalish
tends to agree. "A pig is more like having another family
member than a pet," she says. Indeed, the historic relationship
of man and pig, dating back nearly 2 million years, is complex.
Such phrases as pig out, pigheaded and hog fat suggest distaste
for an ungainly critter that spends most of its time wallowing
in muck. (Pigs have few sweat glands and need mud -- or
preferably, clean water -- to protect themselves from heat
stroke.) But China's Year of the Pig represents prosperity, and
pigs have been linked with deities in many cultures.

    Despite their reputation as dirt lovers, pigs have generally
good sanitary habits. Potbellies can be housebroken faster than
most dogs, which is one reason they make tolerable house pets.
Leilani Appleyard, a psychotherapist in suburban Rochester,
notes that visitors sometimes comment on the absence of house
stench after meeting her two-year-old pig Gretel.

    The first potbellies arrived in North America in 1985; their
U.S. population, according to one estimate, may be as high as
6,000, and breeders at times are hard-pressed to keep up with
demand. Two Californians, pig fanciers Kayla Mull and Lorrie
Blackburn, have published a paperback guide to the care and
feeding of potbellies, and there is even a Pig Hotline
(415-879-0061) where owners can get instant answers to  porky
puzzles.

    Some brave swinophiles have taken full-size pigs as pets.
In addition to their two Vietnamese potbellies, Raymond
Sattler, a Wilmington, N.C., neurosurgeon, and his wife Debbie
have a pair of champion Durocs, which currently weigh in at 700
lbs. apiece. It's just one pig-happy family, the doctor
reports. "When we come home, it's impossible to watch the pigs
and not just chuckle and feel better," says Sattler. "To be
sitting in front of a fireplace with a bottle of wine, your
wife and a pig is the ultimate in relaxation."


By John Elson. Reported by Scott Brown/Los Angeles and Elizabeth
Rudulph/New York.