It turns out that the pig wasn’t normal. I told McGraw that I would make sure the procedure went well, and everything would go smoothly. I am, after all, a certified veterinarian. But I don’t think that I’ve seen anything so unusual as I did in the McGraw barn, that spring of 1889.
William had sent me his boy, Nathaniel, who said his pig was acting funny. She was “expecting” he said. I figured I should come over, maybe help out a little, and try to snag some of Mrs McGraw’s famous cupcakes. They’re so delicious, especially the strawberry ones. I got on my horse with my bag all packed and rode off toward the farm.
As Daisy galloped down the town street, I thought about my life as a veterinarian. It was harder than most would expect, but not for the reasons one would expect. It wasn’t hard to hold a cow’s leg in place, and I didn’t gag from the stench of an infected snout. Rather, the whole job was so emotionally taxing. I’ll never forget how hard I cried after coming home from losing a duckling. The poor thing was wild, and it had been stomped on by that stupid Rickley boy. I did all I could to save it, but it died.
This one shouldn’t be too hard, though. I’d ushered many creatures into the world, by their parent’s side. Even a rat. All I had to do was let mother nature take her course and pull a little if I needed to.
Finally, we arrived at the McGraw’s plantation. He was in the front, wringing his hands.
“Doctor, you needs to helps us! That’s pig’s possessed! It's not from this worlds, I tells you. We might needs the minister too’s!”
I could tell that William McGraw was shaken when he started adding too many letters to the ends of his words. I tried to comfort him as best I could.
“Don’t you worry, man. All will be well.” I grabbed my bag and swung off the saddle. “Show me this pig.”
He nodded nervously, and we walked toward the barn. I inspected the farm. Not much had changed since I last visited. Then I looked at the farmer. The small man was tensed and sweaty, like he’d been fighting a swarm of bees. We reached the barn door and he paused.
“Now, doctor, if you don’t mind I’ms not gonna be going’s in there with’s you. I, uh, need to…” he thought for a moment, then his face brightened with inspiration. “I needs to tell my wife tos make you those cupcakes she makes’.”
That works, I thought. “Very well, then,” I said. “I’ll see you in a minute. And McGraw, the procedure will undoubtedly go quite smoothly. I’ve been doing this for over ten years.”
“All right, doctor. Good tidings to yous then.” With that, he walked quickly back to the farmhouse.
“How odd,” I muttered. Shrugging, I slide open the door and strolled into the barn. The pigs were in the back left corner, if I could recall correctly. Going over to the back, I heard squeals. The pigs were making quite a fuss about something. I reached the pigs and entered the stall, making sure to lock the gate behind me. There were four pigs, and none looked pregnant. I frowned. Nathaniel had said she was inflated like a big balloon from the circus, but I saw no such pig.
The four pigs were very odd, however. They were squealing nervously, and kept lifting their heads up towards the ceiling.
“What is wrong with you?” I exclaimed. I was about to turn around to find McGraw when I heard a noise from above. Looking up, my eyes beheld the most absurd and shocking occurrence I have ever witnessed. There, below the rafters, was a pig suspended in midair. The beast was fantastically large around the stomach, and it seems like it was that organ which was keeping it up.
Too stunned to speak or move, I watched as the pig hovered around the barn, oinking occasionally. I would have kept staring, but one of the four grounded pigs ran into me. She nearly knocked me down. I looked at the agitated pig with contempt and hurried outside the stall. Grabbing a ladder from the floor, I propped it against the wall near where the pig was floating. I raced up the ladder towards the animal, but it quickly hovered away from me. I let out a shout of surprise, and heard a scream outside. One of the girls.
“All’s well!” I called. “No need to worry!”
I jumped off the ladder and repositioned it near the pig’s new location. I tried to reach for it, but again it floated away before I could stop it. There was almost a mysterious force which propelled it. I tried to catch it a few more times in the same manner, but to no avail. I hurried outside toward the house. The farmer was sitting on the porch. He leapt to his feet when he saw me.
“It is possessed, I tell you! I told’s you so!” The man was red from strain. “It just flies around like the devil!”
I was not a superstitious man. “Sir, I doubt it. The likelier explanation would be that of science, not religion.” I straightened my back. “I also have two conclusion from my brief time with the specimen. One, the pig is not pregnant, unless it’s giving birth to helium. Secondly, the creature desires to avoid capture.”
McGraw was nodded profusely all the while. “Yes, yes, doctor. Of course, doctor.”
I sighed. Not a stupid man, but a traumatized one. “Anyhow, I’ll need a rope. Preferably of great length. And perhaps a cupcake?” I asked hopefully.
“Oh yes, doctor!” He hurried inside. After a minute, the farmer came out armed with an ample amount of rope, and two cupcakes. “There you ares.”
I took a bit of the larger cupcake and nodded in thanks. I then ran back to the barn. The pig was hovering about the cow, which mooed disdainfully. It was doing rolls in the air, and it squealed when it saw me.
“Hello, you fiend,” I said. I uncoiled the rope and tied it into a lasso. “Today you shall bite the dust, quite literally.”
Thankfully, my father was a cattle rancher. I swung the lasso over my head and let it fly, aiming for the pig’s head. Before it could land, the pig zipped to the far corner of the barn. It oinked smugly. I scowled. I whipped the lasso over my head again, and failed to capture the pig. It flew up toward the middle rafter.
“You won’t elude me for long,” I said. Reaching down toward my bag, I grabbed out a canister and a blowgun. Opening the canister, I selected the sleep dart. This was my own invention. When shot with this dart, virtually any animal would be paralyzed and sent into a sleep state. I loaded the dart into the instrument and brought it towards my mouth. The pig was floating around in a circle. It looked at me mockingly.
“Good night,” I said. With a great expel of air, I sent the dart into the heavens. My aim was perfect. I hit the pig right in the belly button. The creature squealed and hunched, but after a minute it was snoring softly. But it was still hovering a good fifteen feet off the ground.
I picked up the lasso and swung again. This time the pig didn’t dodge, and I snagged it around the neck. I pulled down on the rope. It didn’t budge. I frowned again, and tugged harder. The pig moved, but not downwards. With all my weight, I jumped up and yanked the rope toward the ground. It didn’t work. The animal seemed frozen at that altitude. This was useless. What could be done?
***
I was sitting on the porch with the farmer, another cupcake in my hand. He had a mug of ale. The sun was setting.
McGraw smacked his lips and looked at me with thanks. “Well doctor, I humbly tip my hat to you. I thought for sure judgement day was upon us all.”
I smiled. “Happy to assist.” I checked my watch and realized I must be getting back to the office. “Well McGraw, I hope your children enjoy their new toy. And don’t forget to sedate it when you untie it from the ground. We don’t want any of them carried off into the clouds.”
“Right, right,” he affirmed. “Sedate it when I untie it, yes.”
I waved goodbye and walked back to my horse, medical bag in hand. Daisy was happy to see me. I hopped on the saddle and she trotted off. I took one last glance back. In the field, the children were running and laughing. The eldest boy had a rope in his hand, attached to a floating pig. The youngest saw me watching and yelled in my direction.
“Thank you, Doctor Kite!”
Disclaimer: contrary to logic, common sense, rationality, reasoning, and sound judgement, this story is actually fictional.
Why should your comrades miss out? Share this substack with those around you!