I cleaned the car yesterday. The first time in months. Look at who ended up inside.
This was the culmination of a chase of two piglets. Delivered to our crofter friends last night, they escaped before they could be penned.
The daring two spent the night in the open. Food was placed to lure tham to their new home. Undoubtably frightened by travelling and the newness of their surroundings, the bait didn't work.
Late afternoon, our phone rang. "We're having a pig emergency. We need as many people as possible". Passer-bys were drafted in to help.
For several hours, Sukie, Bill, Toby and Harry with the help of Cheryl, had been chasing the escapees along the single-track road that leads up our valley. When cornered, the piglets dived off the road into the thick brambles. More bodies were needed.
I had to feel sorry for the poor youngsters who were clearly terrified. But perhaps enjoying the game just a little.
We drove them from their thick cover like grouse beaters on a moor.
We cornered them, one at a time, against a gate. We formed a wall. Then, like the last remaining competitor in a game of British Bulldogs, the piglet would charge our line.
At the first attempt the piglet broke free.
I was in the full-back position, confident of my old rugby skills, but the wee devil powered through my tackle.
It tooks ages to get them back against the gate but we weren't making the same mistake again. One by one, the piglets we recaptured. We'll see them through the winter, make a fuss of them each time we visit, then sometime next year, they'll go on their one-way holiday to Mull.