Lewis County Power Rankings: A Major Lack of a Problem With Feral Pigs

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There’s a lot of animals in this week’s Power Rankings, which is back after a weeklong hiatus in which I started to write a column and then abandoned it midway through after I could find nothing funny about Pe Ell’s town marshal buying a 2009 Dodge Charger. I tried to remedy the situation by going for a walk and quickly returned home after a bird pooped on my shoulder. Last week’s column just wasn’t meant to be.  

Feral Pigs: A thinkpiece by outdoorsman Jordan Nailon in this week’s Outdoors section examines the existence (or lack thereof) of roaming bands of feral pigs in Western Washington. The swine have been a problem across the country, though the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife has yet to document an actual, real-live sighting. Jordan’s a long-winded writer, so if you don’t have time to read the entire piece (which I would recommend; it’s good!) it can be summed up as “There’s no wild pigs ’round here, but maybe there are.” 

From an ecological standpoint, this is good; wild pigs cause plenty of damage to private property and the natural environment, and are not native to North America. 

From a pure entertainment standpoint, however, this is too bad. Feral pigs would top a list of “fun animals to hunt to extermination.” They’re noisy, brutish, ugly and tasty! There’s nothing poetic, romantic or graceful about a pig. In Wisconsin, for example, there’s no closed-season on hunting wild pigs; acquire a small-game license and make sure you’re not shooting at someone’s livestock and you’re good to go. 

I would happily disappear into the woods with dark facepaint, a bottle of water, my trusty idiot dog and a sharpened stick and go to war with a herd of Future Bacon. And I’m well aware how quickly it would devolve into the plot of “Lord of the Flies,” right down to me breaking my own glasses, crying, suffering from asthma and engaging in some classic self-ridicule for all of the above.

Sidenote: The complete “fun animals to hunt to extermination” list: 1. Wild pigs; 2. Snakes (all kinds, every last one, get them out of here forever, anything you could classify as a serpent, yuck); 3. Hyenas; 4. Vultures; 5. Lampreys.

The Lamprey: Local public safety agencies are reminding folks to consider water safety as summer gets closer. The press release did not, however, remind swimmers of the terrible lamprey, which was brought to light by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service earlier this month. The lamprey — generously, inoffensively categorized as a fish — is an important fish biologically and culturally, according to what I can only assume is a source not endowed with the gift of sight. This isn’t a fish as much as the headless demon offspring of an eel and an oscillating electric razor. Any “no swimming” signs along the Chehalis River — or “no trespassing” signs on any property, really — should simply feature a picture of the lamprey, the mere sight of which would scare any God-fearing individual into compliance. I grew up along the Chehalis River and had no problem swimming in its waters, knowing full well the amount of garbage, animal carcasses and feces, junk cars and leeches lurking beneath the surface. The terrifying lamprey, though? It makes me wish I’d never learned to swim. 

The Bomb Squad: Centralia police suited up and responded to a beeping, mysterious package at the Centralia Timberland Library on Tuesday. Upon further inspection, however, the box proved to be a return-to-sender package delivered to the wrong address (odd, as the library is literally across the street from the post office) containing a jacket, a socket set and a digital watch. 



Most importantly, though, this means that somewhere in Centralia is a person who boxed up a jacket, a socket set and a watch for some reason and mailed it to an undeliverable address. What sequence of events led up to this random collection of items being collected, packaged and incorrectly labeled? 

Was it a post-breakup returning of belongings gone awry? 

“Huh? Oh hello Mark, you want your jacket, watch and socket set back? FINE. But I’m going to address the box REALLY sloppily!” 

And of course there’s someone on the receiving end of the transaction, waiting every afternoon to be disappointed by the mailman, too cold to go outside without his jacket, staring dejectedly at the motorcycle he can’t fix without his socket set, and consistently arriving late for work because his watch has gone missing and he has no other manner of telling time. 

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Aaron VanTuyl is The Chronicle sports editor, columnist and nonlover of snakes.