

Rose wrote that she had a pet Porcupine, and it thought that she was it’s mother.
Rose if you want to write anything about raising a Porcupine I would dearly like to hear the story. I’ve probably had every kind of a wild pet that a person could have, but I’ve never raised a porcupine.
Back in the early sixties, when I lived at Eel rock, we were coming home late, and in the middle of the dirt road was a Porky-pine waddling along. My dad stopped the car, jumped out, grabbed a limb from the side of the road, and herded the slow clumsy appearing porky-pine into the headlights. The animal seemed to be content to stand still in the road. We got out to look at it. When you got close, he would ball up and stick his soft fuzzy nose between his front legs where you couldn’t get to it. My dad got down on one knee and was looking at his face peering upside down at him. He got his knee just a little too close, and in the blink of an eye his knee had five quills in it. They seem like slow clumsy animals, but they can sure flinch fast. It almost seemed like he shot his quills. That is probably how the thought that they can “shoot their quills” got started.
When we got home we cut the quills in two, and pulled them out with pliers, The quills have barbs on them like microscopic fish-hooks. The old wives tale is that if you cut them in the middle it releases the pressure on the barbs and they pull out easier.
Most dogs on the ranch learned to leave porky’s alone. Some of the dumber dogs couldn’t resist trying to get even. They would come home with quill in their nose every time.
You can usually tell when you have porky-pines living in your neighborhood. The maple trees will have dead limbs on them. With closer inspection you will find that the fresh young bark in the treetops has been eaten. Porkys love maple bark.
Oregon, have you ever trapped a porky? I’ll bet you didn’t get much for the pelt.