Bill and Susan Brazzale are like most pet owners. They insist that at times their animal Poc has all too human characteristics. “Sometimes she is moody and stubborn and ignores you,” says Susan. “At other times she is sweet, cuddly and entertaining. It’s as if she can behave like a teen-age girl.”
Parents of daughters may understand the comparison. But Poc was not paying much attention. She was busy nibbling cranberries and Cheerios from Bill’s hand and issuing a couple of dainty snorts, which in her language can mean anything.
Poc, the Brazzale family pet, is a pig.
Not only that, but she is a pig with extremely good breeding. Poc is a full-grown, 42-pound, 2-year-old cross between a Miniature and a Juliana pig. So far as is known, the animal is the only four-legged pig in Park Forest. There is no comparable data for the two-legged variety of swine in the area.
Poc is “cop” spelled the wrong way, because as a young girl who loved animals while living in Hazel Crest, Susan had a pig named Ecilop, or “police,” spelled backward. Her attorney father received the pig as a “gift” from a police officer. Susan grew up with animals, and at times had goats, geese, chickens and roosters in the back yard of the family home. Thus, when given the opportunity to get a pig, the Brazzales scoured the market before finding the right pig with the right bloodline at the right price.
That was the easy part for the Brazzales who moved to Park Forest on Dec. 31, 1989. It took a long time for village officials to agree that Poc was a pet. Liability and homeowners insurance policies needed to be updated, vaccinations needed to be administered by a veterinarian, and after a thorough inspection by police, Poc was granted the opportunity to live in the community and share space with the family dog and cat.
Pigs like Poc are quiet and do not cause trouble, say the Brazzales. Poc was housebroken in less than one month, and although she is able to nibble at yogurt from a spoon, she is a finicky eater. She likes broccoli and celery while turning up her snout at the hint of blueberries. Poc is a smarty pants pig, says Bill. It takes her about two minutes to get the treats from a device in which she must make three connections.
Every so often, the Brazzales take their leashed pet to the Saturday Farmer’s Market. The sign there says “no dogs allowed” but says nothing about pigs. There, Poc is treated like the celebrity she is, often petted and patted. When she is happy, she curls her longish tail. When angry, she squeals. “She is easier to raise than a dog,” says Susan.
Sad to say, Susan can’t bring Poc to Flossmoor where she works. No farm animals in our noble community, village officials tell her. Never, they insist.
On July 31, Poc will celebrate her second birthday and will probably spend the evening getting some additional treats before curling up in her favorite blanket. We humans sometimes do the same after a big celebration.
British Prime Minister Winston Churchill liked pigs. “Dogs look up to us,” he said. “Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.”
Jerry Shnay is a freelance columnist and can be emailed at [email protected].