In article , Norman D. Crow
wrote:

I can remember being around 10 yr. old, walking along thefence with my
Uncle, me being barefoot, him in rubber boots, and all of a sudden he'd grab
my hand with one of his, and the fence with his other hand. WOW! I do NOT
like electric shock. Of course, he would also check to see if the fence was
working by grabbing the wire in one hand and digging the fingers of his
other hand into the grass or dirt. Not me!

Here is the absitively, posilutely TRUE story of "Dave, the Pigs and
the Electric Fence" (tm) and (c)

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When I was in my early 20's (just about exactly 25 years ago) we had a
small hobby farm. We decided to buy 6 weaner piglets and raise them for
meat. The advice we had was to use an electric fence, so we bought the
charger unit, and a bunch of wire, posts and insulators, and set up a
nice pen in a muddy, but densely overgrown pasture that had been laying
fallow for a couple of years. Perfect for pigs .

My brother Brian and I built a crate in the back of his pick-me-up
truck (brother Sean had wrecked his leg in a motorcycle accident,
brother Gord is disabled, sister Suzanne was only about 5, and we
didn't like to let our mom near tools g), and headed for the
Cloverdale auction, where we managed to get a half dozen little porkers
at a good price. Then it was back to the farm, and with little ado we
managed to get them into the pen.

Now, pigs are very intelligent animals, and the little piglets quickly
learned to stay away from the fence. This particular fence sent a pulse
of electricity through the wires every 1.5 seconds, not enough to
injure, but a good jolt for a little piggy standing on the wet ground
of British Columbia's Fraser Valley. Pigs are *so* intelligent, in
fact, that we soon realized we could save power by turning the fence
*off* after they had learned that if they touched it, they got zapped.
Only thing is... Pigs are *so* intelligent, in fact, that we soon
realized we had to make sure we turned the fence *on* again every few
days, because if one of them accidentally touched it and *didn't* get a
zap, the fact was quickly communicated to it's piggy siblings.

Of course, one day, we left it a day too long and *all* the pigs
escaped.

It was a sunny morning, and I was hoeing the corn, dressed only in a
pair of gumboots and a pair of cutoffs, with my (then) long hair tied
back in a ponytail, when I heard a yell from Brian, "Oh SH*T! The pigs
are out!" I dashed out of the corn, and jumped the wooden fence into
the pasture. Brian yelled for Mom to turn the electric fence back on,
and the chase was on, Brian and I in the wet pasture, and Mom, Sean,
Gord and Suzanne leaning on the fence and watching in a mix of concern
and amusement.

Brian and I quickly developed a strategy of picking a single piglet,
herding it toward the pen, and then leaping at it, grabbing the back
legs, and quickly lifting and depositing it back inside the pen, where
it quickly learned that the power was back on.

We were down to two pigs left, and I was hot on the trail of mine. I
saw Brian catch his last one, flip it gently into the pen, and then
turn to try to head mine off.

The pig and I were racing down the long side of the pen, and I was
preparing for my leap. By this time I was covered in wet mud, and
sweating rather profusely. As we near the end of the pen, the pig made
a quick turn, right at the corner, along the short side.

I tried to do the same.

I failed.

My feet went out from under me and I landed on my side, in the mud,
with three wires under me. One just above my hip, one at the bottom of
my rib cage, and one under my arm.

Now, recall two things:

1- The fence was set to deliver a pulse of electricity every 1.5
seconds.
2- The fence was now turned on.

Time slowed to a near standstill as I realized that:

1- The fence was now turned on;
2- I had less than 1.5 seconds to get to my feet; and,
3- There was no way in hell I was going to make it.

ZAP!

While I suffered no injury, except to my pride (I was the only one
present who *wasn't* howling with laughter), I discovered just how
effective a farm electric fence can be in aiding a young man to his
feet, quickly. When the jolt hit me, I was propelled nearly upright,
and then fell backwards, to land in a sitting position in the mud.

Fortunately, Brian had indeed managed to catch the last of the piglets,
and that part of the ordeal was over except for the laughter from my
family, which continues to this day.

Later that year, the pork was somehow even tastier than I had imagined.
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