One of the Ingrams’ potbellied pigs wanders out of its house at

From a distance, Eva and Ercell Ingram’s San Martin home looks
like any rural abode.
But get closer to the two-and-a-half-acre property and some
interesting details surface. First, there’s the sign that
states

Parking for pig lovers only, all others will be towed.

Also, silver-toned pig angels sit on the hood of two sedans.
Hanging beside the front door is a pig-shaped sign alluding to the
reason behind the porcine decor. It reads,

Belly Draggers Ranch.

From a distance, Eva and Ercell Ingram’s San Martin home looks like any rural abode.

But get closer to the two-and-a-half-acre property and some interesting details surface. First, there’s the sign that states “Parking for pig lovers only, all others will be towed.” Also, silver-toned pig angels sit on the hood of two sedans. Hanging beside the front door is a pig-shaped sign alluding to the reason behind the porcine decor. It reads, “Belly Draggers Ranch.”

Welcome to the Ingram’s potbellied pig sanctuary, a non-profit dedicated to maintaining the welfare of unwanted pig pets.

It’s been 12 and half years since the couple brought their first potbellied pig into their home. Named Nigel, the black pig dogged Eva’s every step and soon endeared himself to her.

“Pigs were the yuppie pet of the early ’90s,” Eva, 67, recalls with a laugh. Prior to moving San Martin, the Ingrams lived and worked in San Jose for 15 years.

While that fad eventually faded, the Ingram’s affection for their four-legged companions has not.

Nigel was only the first of many potbellied pigs to come to the ranch. Two years later, the couple soon opened their home to Bodie, an abandoned pig with a broken leg. Not too long after that came Hammish and then other pigs from animal shelters and individuals who could no longer take care of their pigs.

Now, there are 39 pigs at the Ingram hog hotel, but Eva never planned on having so many.

“I said 20, and then I said 30, and now I’m saying 40,” she says. “But that’s my limit. We won’t be adding much more, because emotionally, financially and physically, 40 is about the right number.”

Those 39 who can count themselves as lucky pigs at the ranch lead an enviably idyllic lifestyle. The grass is green, their personal sheds are spacious and equipped with blanket-lined beds. In addition to a diet of potbellied pig feed, fruits and oat hay, they get treats of dried banana chips and animal crackers.

Between breakfast and dinner, they visit with the other pigs, amble around the acre-and-a-half yard, grazing in the sunshine. In a sort of utopian animal harmony, they also share the grounds with five stray cats and a golden retriever named Lady. A few lucky pigs are allowed inside the Ingram house where they trot around and cuddle with Eva on the couch.

Having pigs inside the house has led to some adventures. The Ingrams take the same precautions one would with a small child. Drawers are childproofed, and when things get too quiet, it’s usually a sign that something is up. Six-year-old Omar has some mischievous habits. When he’s gotten a hold of a carelessly placed purse, Eva says, he’ll bring it into a room, close the door and root around in privacy.

Other times, he’s less discreet.

One time Eva was in another room and heard a chair crash down. Upon investigation, it was Omar who was digging for a cookie in the pocket of a coat that was draped on the chair. Omar also has been known to eat an entire bag of dried apricots left out by unsuspecting house guests.

Make no mistake about it: Keeping pet pigs is challenging. There are no hard feelings though, as Eva talks affectionately about her pigs’ misdemeanors.

“He’s about as curious as they get,” she says. “He should have been an investigator.”

The pigs have distinctive personalities. There’s Abigail, who is quite pushy and can be found hot on the heels of Eva when animal crackers are handed out. Shy Molly was taken in after a dog attack and used to be wary of sheds where she could be cornered. PC used to go by the name Pork Chop, but the new abbreviation is more … well … PC. Omar is an affectionate people-pig who loves belly rubs while Hammish tends to be territorial and dislikes strangers getting too close to his shed.

The average pig at the ranch is 120 pounds and three feet long. Full grown, the pigs range from 40 pounds to 250 pounds. Their fur is coarse and comes in black, white and patches of both. Eva is familiar enough with subtle differences in her pigs’ appearance and movement to tell all of them apart.

“To me, they don’t look anything alike,” she says. “There’s only a couple of them out there that if I see them in the field from the back I can’t tell who’s who.”

Ages of the pigs range from 4 months old to 13 years. Eva notes it is easier to adopt out the younger pigs in part because people have soft spots for babies, but also because the older pigs have been at the ranch so long, it is difficult to re-acclimate them to new environs.

While Belly Draggers is a rescue ranch, Eva says it’s currently a full house and nowadays she acts as the middleperson for rescue operations.

“For the most part, what I’ve been able to do a lot of is just mediating,” she says. “Somebody wants a pig, and somebody calls and says they have one. I just put them together, rather than taking the pig in.”

For people interested in adopting, it is important to find out whether a pig will fit in with the potential owner’s accommodations and lifestyle. Potbellied pigs can live up to 15 years and require a fenced outdoor area. In addition to special feed, pigs also require vaccinations and need to have their hooves and tusks trimmed once or twice a year. It is also important to neuter male pigs as otherwise they give off an odor that smells “something awful.”

“Do your research,” Eva says.

The biggest challenge in taking care of a pig is monitoring its weight.

“Pigs live to eat,” she says.

Owners need to make sure their pig stays at an acceptable weight, generally 120 pounds.

Also, if you plan to keep your pig outdoors, be prepared for some landscaping changes. Contrary to what the phrase “sweating like a pig” suggests, pigs do not actually perspire. They need plenty of shade and water, and when the days heat up, they like to push a bucket of water over and dig out a mud pool.

In return, as the Ingrams have discovered, these intelligent animals provide years of loyal and interesting companionship.

The Belly Draggers Ranch accepts used blankets and tax deductible donations of money. Pigs can be sponsored for $20 a month. For more information, visit www.bellydraggersranch.com or e-mail

ei******@co********.net











. For placement of pigs, visit the California Potbellied Pig Association Web site at www.cppa4pigs.org.

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