Happy May. Along South Dakota Highway 79, somewhere between Buffalo Gap and Hot Springs, just inside a stretch of barbed wire there sits an old two-horse trailer with wood panel sides on the edge of a pasture. Old horse trailers, barbed wire, pastures…nothing out of the ordinary along most any stretch of highway in the Dakotas.

I’ve driven by this point of interest several times over the years on my commute to Chadron, Nebraska, where the powers to be are kind enough to let me teach at Chadron State College.

What makes this old two-horse trailer, which obviously hasn’t held two horses or been trailed for quite some time, any more interesting than any other such? Painted in white on the faded wood panels of this particular trailer in worn but quite legible all capital letters is, “WE DON’T RENT PIGS”.

As I said, I have driven by this statement many times over the years, and many times, I have wondered what prompted or necessitated one to feel such a statement needed to be made known to all who may pass? “WE DON’T RENT PIGS”…curious?

Beyond the statement about a half-mile up a long gravel driveway, a ranch sits back against the hillside. I assume they raise pigs, but from the road much of the view of the ranch is obstructed by a thick grove of pine trees, and since I have no sense of smell, assumption is all I can go on. So it goes.

What would provoke someone to say, “Enough is enough. Junior, gather up a can of white paint, a brush, and drag that old two-horse trailer down by the fence line. It’s time we take a stand and make a statement.”

As they stand defiantly in front of their canvas of worn and faded wood, Junior asks, “Daddy, what are we stating?” Daddy ponders thoughtfully for a moment and with a flurry of his arms states, “WE DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BORROW OUR BELOVED SWINE TO ANYONE FOR ANYTHING. NO EXCEPTIONS. NONE! DON’T EVEN ASK!”

Junior gazes at the two-horse trailer, tilts his head, squints his eyes, scratches his head and says, “Daddy, that old two-horse trailer ain’t got room enough for all those letters and words and punctuations and exclamations.”

Daddy gazes at the two-horse trailer, tilts his head, squints his eyes, scratches his head and says, “I suppose you might be right. Howsabouts, WE DO NOT BORROW SWINE TO PEOPLE?” To which Junior replies, “Still too much words if we want them big enough for all those people inquiring about pig rental to see our statement from the road.”

Daddy says, “Well I’m at a loss, go fetch your Momma, she’s good with saying a little that means a lot.” Junior comes back a few minutes later, a bit out of breath from the run to the house and back, and pants out, “Momma says she’s too busy for such things, but she gave me this note.”

Daddy peers at the note and reads aloud, “WE DON’T RENT PIGS…boy, your Momma has always had a way with words.”

So, in my mind, that’s how it all came to be. In that same mind, questions remain about who was attempting to rent a pig and why? You can write that story.