While most vets treat mainly cats and dogs, ours specializes in the exotic categories of lizards, birds, snakes and of course pigs. To date, our Juliana pig Elly’s veterinary care has consisted of a spay surgery, an emergency trip to dislodge a grape out of the pigs trachea, and a general check up. While vaccinations are not required for a Chicago dwelling porker, we did decide to inoculate our porcine companion against a few pesky diseases.

Not so fast though! While vaccinating Fido would consist of simply phoning in an appointment, getting Elly her shots was a bit more complex. For starters, the vet does not keep pig vaccines on hand. Why? Because not many people have urban dwelling pigs! As a result, I found myself perusing farm veterinary supply websites searching for bottled pig vaccines for our vet to administer. I struggled to find single vaccinations, so I ended up with a jug suited to inoculate an entire herd of pigs! (P.S. I have extra).

Now comes the fun part. Getting the stubborn pig to the vet. In retrospect, getting her there was the easy part. Actually getting the vaccine into the angry pig was a whole different ball game! We arrived with Elly full of hope and unrealistic expectations. I assumed they would give a quick jab in the rump and we would be on our way. Instead, pigs apparently receive injections behind their ears in the neck region. This was a game changer. Fortunately our vet was prepared with an assistant who had once worked on commercial pig farms, I was prepared with my unshakeable husband. Between the two of them I was sure magic would happen. I escorted our uneasy 7-year-old daughter out of the room and left the 3 of them to the mercy of Elly. Within moments we hear the pig angrily squealing. I assume they are getting the job done and attempt to zone out the noise. Elly gets louder, and louder, and as I uneasily look out the window I can see pedestrians scrunching their faces in confusion. I slip down a little lower in my seat and hope for an end to the pigs commotion and apologize to the confused faces in the waiting room. Soon I hear a ruckus like the exam room is being ransacked. Elly is squealing and squawking, I can hear the vet, her assistant, and the husband problem solving their next plan of attack. The daughter is nervously jumping around outside the door, reaching out to touch the handle, then nervously bouncing back. She pivots between reaching for the door and running back to plug her ears on the waiting room sofa. She squeezes her hands over her head while shouting “LALALALALA… IS IT OVER YET???” I assure her it will be over soon. But it wasn’t over. Not even close. In fact, they were in there for over an hour. I was struggling to figure out how 3 adults were having so much trouble with one lady pig. Finally, after 75 minutes I get word that the job has been completed. I grab our daughters hand and walk her into the exam room. Elly is angrily honking and stomping around the exam room. The vets assistant is bleeding from getting stabbed with the syringe, the vet is covered in sweat, some poor soul is cleaning pig poop off the floor, and the husband’s stomach is bruised and raw from being “hooved” by the ticked off porker. Everyone looks exhausted. We are told by the assistant that pigs often pass out if they get too upset, and its important that we keep a close eye on her for a bit to make sure she is stable before we go home. As I watch Elly angrily twitching her tail and clambering around the room, stomping her hooves and swiping her head I doubt she will fall over from stress. This little lady is red-hot mad! The vet looks defeated when she tells us to please return in 3 weeks for the booster. She warns us that our pet may be lethargic for the rest of the evening. Upon our return home, Elly spends her time knocking over chairs, rooting up the backyard, and generally showing zero sign of lethargy.

3 weeks later:

The husband and I spent countless hours brainstorming vaccination part 2. Perhaps he can wear his bullet proof vest to protect himself from the pigs hooves?? Maybe we can find the most delicious food imaginable to distract the pig?? Perhaps we can just throw a pillow case over the pig’s head and hope for the best??

This time the pig bears down in front of the veterinary office door and REFUSES to go in. She remembers this place from last time. She is NOT going in. After general pleading and bribing is a fail, I start heaving on the pigs rump to try to force her through the door. This makes the porker even more angry and she bears down harder and squeals. I look helplessly at the husband. He heaves her 65 pound physique onto his chest and hauls her inside. I am expecting everyone to look disappointed we came back.  Surprisingly the vet, and the same assistant look happy to see us. The assistant excitedly telling me that her syringe stabbed hand only took a few painful days to heal. How lovely. I think. It takes a lot of coaxing to get Elly back to the exam room but she does move along with the help of a sack of sliced grapes. The child and I resume our post in the waiting room. And lo and behold, we hear one LONG angry squeal and get word that its done! Fantastic! With several weeks to plan, 3 adults were able to conquer the pig! The staff spends 20 minutes feeding her veggies and fruit. And of course, the daughter snuggles her in the waiting room for being brave.

One year down. Only 15 more to go.