Recalling memories and exploits of Sylvia Kate

By Howard E Cummins

columnist

My story had its beginning one autumn day when I had just turned eight years of age. After walking home from school my grandfather met me at the gate with the news that my birthday present was at the barn. I quickly abandoned my books and ran across the field to see what was waiting for me. I wanted a bicycle but one of my brothers had recently been injured in a bike accident and I knew that there would be no new bicycle for me that year.

When I reached the barn, my grandfather was close behind. He picked up a squirming bundle of pink flesh and informed me that I was now the proud owner of an official registered O.I.C Sow Hog and with a smile placed the frightened little animal in my hands.

I was to learn that he had been attending a Stock Yard sale in Kentucky when he saw this piglet hiding behind a bale of hay in a stall. He was informed that she was a registered pig that was available for sale for twenty-five dollars. Realizing that this would make for a practical and rewarding gift he immediately paid the fee, plus an extra ten dollars for the legal papers. That official document, printed with red and blue lettering on parchment paper with an official gold seal in one corner by the US Department of Animal Husbandry, was later posted on the gray weathered door of our barn.
During the excitement, my mother and grandmother showed up to take in the drama that was unfolding. This little whitish pink creature we would name Silvia Kate was quivering and shaking until my grandmother took her in her arms and began rubbing her soft pink belly. When she had finally relaxed and was placed on the ground she disappeared into the nearest stall, where she became its newest official resident. That abandoned stall had not been used since our cranky old milk cow, Sweet Milk, had taken to the field where she could enjoy grazing with the chickens.

The barn stall became Sylvia Kates home. Over time we fenced an area of field down to a pond that was fed by an artesian spring, using rocks as a barrier along the border, giving her what was probably an acre of open land to roam. But despite having all of this space she would regularly root her way out and could frequently be found visiting with the Slagle family next door. This was sometimes problematic due to the fact that there were times when she would be accompanied by piglets, all of whom would have to be rounded up and delivered home. Over these early years I remember several occasions when my brothers and I were called to the office by the principal after the school had been alerted that someone needed to corral and retrieve our wayward family pig.
O.I.C. stands for Ohio Improved Chester Whites, which are a large breed of pig. A sow like Sylvia Kate can reach 450 pounds, and our little “pink pig” did indeed grow to be quite large, with a body that was white and with droopy ears. I do not remember breeding Sylvia Kate very often, but when we did her piglets were treated more as pets rather than sources for hams or for sale. Despite the risks she took during her neighborhood excursions she lived a long life. I was grown, and in the Navy, when I received word that she had passed away.
The faded and tattered certificate that I was so proud of at the age of eight was folded and placed somewhere as a keepsake but has been lost over time. But the many memories of Sylvia Kate and her exploits will remain with me always.