Dear Friends and Family,

Before Wayne and I could dry our tears at the crossing of our boy Clover, our much-loved friend Chrissy Pig crossed over peacefully to Rainbow Bridge on Sunday, June 6th, 2010. Although her moms, Maureen & Susie, were in Texas at the time, we were with her when she left. She was 17 years, 2 months old, and I have known her since she was only two. So this is my Euology for my friend, Chrissy Pig.

Chrissy Pig came north to be my sister Mo's companion pig after staging a very successful "Have a white pig in your house!" campaign. It had begun while we were in TX visiting her herd in 1996. I will never forget how, without complaint, she had let me put a pink bow on her freshly bathed head, barretting it securely to the bristles between her ears, just off to the side a little. No sooner was I done, she began to run across the pig park toward Maureen who had just come through the gate. With each quick step she took, her bow flopped up and down on her head while her potbelly swayed widely from side to side. It was a calculated risk worth taking and it paid off.

Her victory brought her here to NY six months later, with our girl Penny PigMeadows and Penny's sister Iris. They arrived in time for my 40th birthday in 1997, on a Delta flight that briefly lost our pigs in transit. They arrived in Syracuse only a few hours later than expected, apparently none the worse for wear, and were greeted with much joy.

Proving from the start to be a pig of many talents, Chrissy Pig drank water from a cup through a straw inserted through her crate door, before being carried to her chariot that would take her and Iris to their new home at Mo & Susie's farm. Penny came home with us. None of us knew exactly how much the girls would change our lives.

Through the years, Chrissy and Iris vacationed many times with us at Clover, Harry & Penny's riverside estate, AKA Piggy Camp. It was here, on their very first stay, that Chrissy Pig earned the nickname, "White Lightning: Deadly and Looking for Place to Strike." Having been only third or fourth down from Herd Leader in her TX herd of 40-50 pigs, Chrissy set our "northern boys" straight on how a herd should be run (with her in charge) as she made her first hoof-step through our gate. Ham-rolling rumbles and neon coloured bandaids were experienced more times than necessary because it took me longer than them to realize I could not make one herd out of two in a mere weeks' time each year. Finally, I stopped trying.

Chrissy was a party pig. She was a good southern girl who enjoyed a beer with friends now and then. There had been rumors from TX that during parties, she would knock a persons drink over, then happily clean it up, sucking all she could out of the carpet before she moved on to the next unsuspecting two-legger. I can confirm that a contented sounding burp would always follow soon after Chrissy enjoyed a beer.

She loved to lay in the sun, inspite of the fact she'd get sunburned, and an all-white pig does turn very pink and hot when that happens. But she never seemed to learn. Once, when she refused sunscreen while here one day, I put a dress on her. Let me just say that Chrissy Pig's dignity was far greater than a stupid dress, and I never did that again.

She had a distinctive, deep, fog-horn like oink. And although being diagnosed at only four years old with severe degenerative joint disease, her elbows did fuse over the years and even until just a few weeks before she crossed, she would run to her outdoor pen and back as her tail wagged wildly. And Chrissy could make her tail go in a circle. I often thought it looked like a helicopter rotor and expected more than once that her rump would one day lift off the ground.

Chrissy Pig was a happy pig. A good herd leader (to Iris), and a devoted companion to Mo and Susie. She loved her farm and she was truly loved.

Chrissy Pig is survived by her immediate family: herd-mate Iris; her moms; and her four horses. She also leaves behind: the few left of her original herd in TX; her niece, Penny PigMeadows; Wayne, Sarah, Ali and I; along with many friends and admirers, as well. She will be so very missed.

As I close my eyes and picture my friend Chrissy crossing the expansive fields of The Forever Green, I'm sure I hear her greeting those she meets with that deep fog-horn oink of hers as her tail wags wildly in circles. I only hope there is sign posted over there, somewhere, for her to see that reads: No Ham-Rolling Allowed!

How fortunate I have been for all of the moments I have spent with that all-white Chrissy Pig. I thank her for being my friend.

With love,

Colleen
June, 2010