Stymie was one of our old curmudgeons. He was a very hard one for us to identify when we took over the property in Tennessee. No distinguishing marks. Minimal photographs. He wasn’t cutely polka dotted. He wasn’t a bouncing baby. He was a plain old potbelly/feral mix with zero historical data documented.
Helping pigs age gracefully is a tough assignment. There’s no winning against the arthritis that eventually calls them home. We try every trick possible, but arthritis eventually wins.
Many of our pigs have survived their past to come here to live in peace…many of them have a rescue story that started with Odd Man Inn. We don’t dwell on past trauma, but rather focus on the beauty of living in Sanctuary. Stymie had that chance, and that’s what mattered most.
