When I was in the ninth grade and living with the Elmer Dodson family on his farm in Sandy Ridge, North Carolina, I experienced many facets of farm work. Our main chore dealt with growing tobacco, but there were also many other kinds of work to be done on the farm. Since we had various farm animals, we had to grow and harvest feed for them, too. A lot of hay was needed for the horses and cows, and several acres of corn, wheat, and oats were necessary for the other animals such as pigs, chickens, goats, etc. It required a lot of work to plant, cultivate, and harvest these crops. Usually, farmers took care of any farm work themselves, with only occasional help from other farm hands.

If a horse became injured or sick or a cow went dry (couldn’t produce milk anymore), most farmers treated the animals themselves. Rarely did they seek veterinarian services. Before I came to live with the Elmer Dodson family, I had experienced almost all parts of farm life. However, one especially new and memorable task for me was my first job helping castrate two-week old piglets. I learned that for meat quality and pig behavior, male pigs needed to be castrated soon after birth, unless their services as boars would be used when they matured. At this time we had two sows and each had given birth to 10 or 12 piglets. Odean Dodson (Elmer’s son) and I were charged with catching the piglets and holding their legs apart so they could be castrated. Even though the piglets were brought into a small, fenced-in holding area with their mothers, catching the piglets sometimes was a challenge. The sows also became upset and defensive when their squealing piglets were captured. An angry sow can be really scary!

One of Elmer’s most reliable tenant farmers (Sam Strickland) did the actual castration. Sam and his wife and family of fifteen children had been Elmer’s tenant farmer for many years. Sam was a tall, strong gentleman who performed the castrations, while Odean and I held the piglet’s legs apart. Sam received no pay for his work; he performed the castrations simply to receive the testicles (which he called “Rocky Mountain oysters”). As Sam performed each castration, he tossed the removed testicles into a 5-gallon bucket that he would later take to his house. He claimed that Rocky Mountain oysters were delicious, and he and his family looked forward to a scrumptious evening meal!

After Sam had castrated five or six piglets, apparently because of all of the squealing and agitation in the holding pen, the piglets became even harder for us to catch. Odean and I also received threatening interference each time from the protective sows. Finally, Elmer became impatient with Odean and me and the amount of time we were taking to catch a piglet. He snorted, “I’ll show you how to catch piglets!”

Standing less than five feet tall and weighing around 120 pounds, Elmer often compensated for his lack of physical stature through his brash feistiness and cockiness. He always rushed to get a chore or project started, but his actual physical work was short lived. For example, when we arrived at a tobacco field for priming, Elmer would admonish everyone with, “C’mon! Let’s get started! Don’t just stand here!” Then he would race through eight or ten tobacco plants while everyone else was just beginning. Within minutes though, Elmer would stop priming, admonish us to continue working, and claim he had a job to do elsewhere. Elmer never stayed with the same chore very long.

Wearing thin rubber boots, Elmer entered the holding area to demonstrate how a person should properly catch a piglet. As soon as Elmer entered the holding area and stooped to collect a squealing piglet, he was blindsided by an irate sow whose force was so strong that Elmer went sprawling face first into a wet cesspool of mud and pig manure. Muddied, infuriated and embarrassed, Elmer immediately jumped up and retaliated by kicking the sow as hard as he could with his right foot. Unfortunately, his thin boot provided no protection for Elmer’s foot. While grabbing at his right foot, and screaming and writhing in pain, Elmer slipped and fell once again into the wet cesspool. This time Elmer arose from the cesspool more slowly and hobbled out of the holding area. Because the fiasco was so funny, Odean and I looked at each other and grinned, but we dared not laugh out loud! As Elmer limped away, he warned us in his usual fashion, “Make sure y’all finish everything before anybody leaves!”

Later we learned that Elmer had broken his big toe on his right foot when he kicked the sow!

Gil Bowman is a previous contributor to The Readers Write.