The Last Truffle Pig
Marco moved through the oak forest, his boots crunching on leaves as he walked. In his hand, a slack rope leash, pulled by his trusty truffle pig, Tina. She was already at work, her snout buried deep in the undergrowth. “The smell of the forest is intoxicating,” Tina thought, enjoying the familiar earthy scent.
Guided by Tina, Marco daydreamed about the treasures hidden beneath the forest floor. “Pungent and luxurious truffles,” he mused, “And I get paid to find them. There’s no better gig in the world.” He was suddenly pulled from his daydreams by the yank of a rope. Tina had detected something irresistible. “That a girl, Tee,” Marco said.
Tina slowed to a halt, her eyes fixed on the source of the scent, but no truffle was found. Instead, there was only a mound of dirt beside a freshly dug hole. She followed the scent further, her nose close to the ground, only to be met with a low growl.
“Get your filthy swine away from me,” a man clad in a black storm jacket said.
“What?” Marco said, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Hunting truffles. As are you.”
“You stole our…”
“I don’t see your name on it,” the man said, as he walked away, his dog in toe, “Good girl.”
Marco’s face reddened, his hands clenched. “It’s okay, Tina, we just need one.”
Tina felt more determined. “Just one truffle, that’s all,” she thought to herself. The pair continued. Everywhere they went, they found the man and his dog. “Just one truffle,” Marco growled. Tina took a deep breath, again isolating that irresistible smell. She pulled Marco into the forest, and soon enough, stood above the source, the ground, untouched. Finally, a truffle!
She dug.
Marco rushed to pull Tina back, “Please, Tina! Don’t eat—”
Tina was quick. She’d already begun her meal.
Marco pulled her back, revealing a half eaten truffle. “That's it,” he sighed, “Let’s go back to the car and head home.”
Marco’s car, an old, beaten up Fiat, sat on a narrow, winding forest road, barely more than a dirt path meandering through the dense woods. Attached to the back was a small, rickety trailer, its wooden sides scratched and weather-beaten. Marco guided Tina into the trailer, her hooves clacking on the wooden floor. Marco’s shoulders slumped as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. He climbed in.
The old Fiat’s engine groaned as Marco turned the ignition. He turned the corner and slowed, as he passed a shiny black Fiat. Sitting in the driver's seat, with the window unwound, was the man in black. Next to him sat his hound. The man laughed, “Your trailer was a dead giveaway.”
Marco scowled, and continued homeward. He turned the radio up and then changed stations. “What’s this?” he said. They were having a call in debate about a potential ban of truffle pigs.
“The time for dogs is here,” a voice declared. “Pigs uproot everything on the forest floor, damaging the sensitive truffle ecosystem. Imagine a lone fisherman quietly casting his rod, versus a trawler violently dragging up everything from the seabed. That's the difference between a truffle dog and a truffle pig. It’s precision and cleanliness versus violence and mess.”
“You’ve got it backwards,” countered another voice. “Dogs shouldn’t be used at all. Truffle hunting should be restricted to hogs. Hogs are devoted to the cause.”
“Why? Dogs are vastly superior. They’re cheaper, more effective. Name one advantage of hogs over dogs.”
The hog advocate stuttered, “My dad hunted with a hog, as did dad’s dad, and dad’s dad’s dad. Hunting with hogs runs in our DNA…”
“You’re living in the past, my friend. It's too late, you've already lost.”
Marco shut the radio off and continued in silence.
Marco turned the fiat down a bumpy dirt road and slowed to a halt. “Okay, Tina, we’re here.”
The farm was in disrepair, with peeling paint and flailing fences. Beside the house stood a large pen. Marco led Tina in, where she joined Tiana and Tatiana, then he turned and sat on a slab of wood.
Marco’s brother, Lucca, joined him. “Rough day, Marco?”
“Yeah,” Marco replied, “I only got a half-eaten truffle.”
Lucca sighed, “I know how much you love truffle hunting, but you can’t do it at a loss.”
“I know. If only she didn’t eat it… we would have been set…”
“Was that all that went wrong?”
“No… This man and his dog... The dog was fantastic. It had us beaten every single time.”
“Then why can’t you just get a dog? Give me the pigs, I’ll deal with them.”
“No, I don’t want to do that. I’ve been at it for—”
“You know what I’d do? I’d do the same as I do with any piece of outdated technology. I’d replace it with the newer model. The better model,” Lucca gestured to the tractor, “Like I’ve done with the tractor.”
“But they’re living beings!” Marco exclaimed, “And they’ve been loyal and helpful to me.”
“The pigs have no idea what you want from them! They’re just hungry and like to eat truffles… so they’ll find truffles to eat. They’re just doing pig things for pig reasons.”
“But dogs do things for dog reasons.”
“Yes, but they’re also better at truffle hunting.”
Marco paused. “But they were so hard to train.”
“How many truffles do you need to lose before you move on? You’re lucky you haven’t lost a finger yet.”
In the pen, Tina, Tiana and Tatiana were listening in.
Tiana squealed with rage. “That’s not fair! Lucca’s not being fair.”
“He’s right though. I couldn’t help but eat it,” Tina sighed.
“If we can't eat the truffles we find, then what’s even the point?” Tatiana grumbled.
“But if we keep eating truffles, they’ll—”
“Every hog I’ve talked to, you know, the ones who work in the industry, love truffles, and, at minimum, take a finder's fee.”
“The dogs don’t take a fee.”
Back outside, Marco turned on the radio. An announcer echoed, “After much deliberation, the proposed ban on truffle pigs has been approved. It will be enshrined into law shortly.” Marco sighed, then turned the radio back off.
“There you have it,” Lucca said.
Marco looked at the back of his hands, still dirty from the half eaten truffle, still slightly swollen from pulling Tina’s leash.
“They’re too costly to keep around as pets,” Lucca said.
“Can’t we talk about it in the morning?”
“Sure.”
The brothers sat in silence, as the sky grew dark.
Back in the pen, Tina squealed, “I don’t want to stop truffle hunting.”
“It’s okay,” Tatiana said, “We’ll be okay.”
“No we won’t. Truffle hunting is all I’ll ever want to do. It’s in my blood, it’s my calling. I love it. How could they stop us from doing what we love? How could Marco?”
“It’s not up to Marco. Anyway, as he said, they’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Early the next morning, the pigs awoke to footsteps. “Marco’s up early,” Tina said. She walked towards the gate and peered through. As she did, she heard Lucca sigh. “He’s not going to do it, so I may as well. That’s what family is for. Making the hard decisions when they’re too soft themselves. It’ll be hard, but he’ll understand.”
Tiana squealed, “I don’t want to leave the farm.” She held her ground, as did the others.
“Look girls, we’ve got to bring home the bacon, one way or another. Please just cooperate.” They stood fixedly.
Lucca pulled an eighth of the truffle out of his pocket, “Come on girls, please.”
Tina trotted into the trailer. Tiana stayed fixed. Tatiana edged forward, torn between the two.
“Come on girls,” Lucca sighed, “With the money, I might be able to buy Marco a nice truffle dog. He’ll be able to live a nice life. Don’t you want that? Please.”
“It’s okay,” Tatiana said, “We’ll still be together.”
“Okay, if you won’t come, I’ll have to force you.” Marco pulled out a prod and nudged Tiana. She grunted and ambled into the trailer, as did Tatiana. Lucca split the reward between the three of them. Then, he started the car, and drove off.
Lucca backed up against a narrow opening, then stopped the car. The trailer door opened into a dull room, with floors of concrete patchily covered with hay. “Come on, girls… out you hop,” Lucca said.
Tiana remained still, her eyes wide. The others edged forward.
The manager approached. He was a colossal man, with a black beard speckled with grey. “We don’t have time for this.” He pulled out a whip and cracked it in the air.
“Tiana, please,” Tina said. But Tiana stayed fixed, and wailed, “I want to go home!”
The manager stepped forward, and cracked Tiana with the whip. She squealed in agony, and pushed forward into the holding pen. “That’s better,” he said, nodding to a handler standing nearby, “Mark them and get that trailer out of here.”
The handler, a man in overalls and a flat cap, stepped forward with a can of spray paint. He marked each sow with a bright red number, then attached tags to their ears.
“Move them to the pens,” the Manager ordered.
The sows were herded through a series of narrow chutes, into a gloomy pen. They paused.
“I just want to go home,” Tiana repeated.
A hog with a brown spot, named Allegra, said through the adjacent grate, “I’m sorry, but you’re not going to go home again. Best forget about it.”
“What’s going to happen to us?” Tina asked.
“You’ll be put into new careers. You’ll be sold off.”
“Will we get bought by a truffle hunter?”
“So, you’re truffle pigs?” Allegra asked. “Fat chance. It’s unlikely that you’ll get to work as truffle hunters ever again. Didn’t you hear about the ban?”
“But truffle hunting is all I want to do… and it’s all I’m good at.”
“Look, I've heard of a traditionalist truffle hunter who moved to Croatia. If you want to continue hunting, that’s your best bet.”
“Croatia?”
“Yes, Croatia. Regardless, you won’t be truffle hunting in Italy.”
“How do we get there? To Croatia? Where’s Croatia?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tina, surely there’s another job out there,” Tatiana said. “You just don’t know what it is yet. It’ll be okay. As long as we’re together.”
The sows were led into the auction hall, a cavernous room, lights looming high overhead. The air buzzed with activity, a cacophony of voices, footsteps, and the occasional squeal. They were herded into a small holding pen at the side of the stage, from where they could see the proceedings. Tina, Tiana, and Tatiana huddled together.
The auctioneer, a wiry man with a shrill voice, stood at a podium. He tapped his microphone, and the crowd quieted down.
“Next up,” he announced, “we have the first of many truffle pigs.” He read out Tina’s number, and pointed at her.
A butcher, broad-shouldered with a bloodstained apron, leaned over to his companion and whispered, “Surely truffles and truffle pig make a fine pairing.” He raised his hand to bid.
Next, a stern-looking woman in a lab coat leaned forward. “Pigs are crucial for our studies,” she explained to the man beside her. “Their organs are remarkably similar to humans.” She nodded to the auctioneer, placing her bid.
A rotund man in a bright green tracksuit pushed his way to the front. “Pig racing!” he boomed, turning to address the people around him, who tilted their heads in confusion. He waved his paddle enthusiastically, “She’ll make a fine racing pig.”
The bids flew fast. Tina, Tiana and Tatiana trembled, pressing closer to each other. They looked around, taking in the different faces, the different intentions. Each bidder saw them as something different.
The auctioneer’s gavel slammed down, and the final bid was taken. The winner, the man in the green tracksuit, approached the holding pen with a wide grin. “Looks like I’ve got myself a new racer,” he chuckled.
The handler tapped Tina’s side, “Come, you’re one of the lucky ones.”
Tatiana squealed, trying to keep Tiana and Tina close, “No, please. Don’t separate us. Tina, don't go. I don’t want you to—”
“Come on, don’t make me use force.” The sows stood still. “Stubborn pigs,” the handler lamented, reaching for the whip. The whip cracked, missing Tina, but hitting Tatiana. She squealed. Tina stepped from among her friends, in hopes they wouldn’t be struck again.
The man in the green tracksuit, referred to as Trainer, drove Tina to a small racing facility on the outskirts of a bustling town. The facility was modest. Really, it was a few dirt tracks surrounded by wooden picket fences.
“Come on, let’s see what you’re made of,” Trainer said, leading Tina out to the track. Sitting just out of reach was a rabbit shaped lure. She stood, unmoving. “Oh,” he exclaimed. “How about a carrot?” He replaced the lure with a carrot. She started jogging towards it, completing a lap. “Too slow,” he sighed. “Wait a minute, didn’t they say you liked truffles?” He replaced the carrot with a truffle, and she bolted. He smiled.
They trained that way for weeks, Tina making gradual improvements. Trainer cheered her on, clapping his hands and shouting encouragement. “Come on, Tina! Faster, girl!” After finishing, he’d pat her on the back. “That’s a girl!”
One morning, Trainer said, “It’s time for you to race.” He loaded her up, and drove her out to a different track, one buzzing with action, the chatter occasioned by the sound of gunshots. Tina waited. Finally, Trainer led her to a familiar place, the starting line, “Show me it was worth it.” He dangled a truffle in front of her, just like at practice. The gun blasted, and she ran. She ran hard. But from the start, it was obvious that she stood no chance; by the time she’d covered two metres, the leader was five metres ahead. She finished far behind the competition. Trainer approached her, a sullen look on his face, “Well, best cut my losses here. It was foolish entering a pig into a dog’s race, anyway.”
He loaded Tina into the trailer, and drove her back to the auction yard. She stood, once again, in the holding pen. And there, she sat, thinking. “Even with all that training, I couldn’t do it. I’m not fast enough to race. I just want to go back to truffle hunting…”
The familiar sound of the auctioneer’s voice echoed through the air. Tina was once again herded into the holding pen at the side of the stage. The auction commenced, and the gavel swang.
Tina was loaded into a shiny trailer by a brunette woman named Isabella. Isabella drove her out to a large brick industrial building with high fences, and then led her into a room lined with cages.An old man in overalls approached. “Isabella, I don’t understand why you’re trying this. The dogs already do a good job.”
“I heard somewhere that pigs could be used as sniffer animals,” Isabella said, “Anyway, if I didn’t buy her, she would have headed straight to the butcher’s! I don’t—”
“Okay, but I’ll only give you a week. If she’s no good, she’s out. ”
Isabella sighed. “Well, we best get to work then.” She placed several boxes in front of Tina. First, she introduced Tina to the smell of the contraband, by hiding the scent, a perfume, in one of the boxes. When Tina sniffed it out, Isabella rewarded her with a small treat. This process was repeated on and on, with increasing complexity, Isabella adding decoy scents and more boxes to test Tina's abilities.
“You’ve got a nose for this,” Isabella said, patting Tina on the head, “Even better than the hounds. Now, let’s try it with the real thing. With the actual contraband.” She brought out several boxes, and placed them on the ground.
“Easy,” Tina thought, correctly identifying the box. But she continued further, tipping over the box to consume its contents. Tina devoured it entirely before Isabella could intervene.
“Tina, no!” Isabella yelled, “The dogs never do this. They never eat the contraband.”
Regardless, Isabella continued trying to train Tina. On the seventh day of training, Isabella sighed, “I’m sorry, Tina. You’re just not cut out for this kind of work.”
The old man approached, “You did a good thing, Isabella. You tried.”
Isabella sat quietly, her shoulders slumped.
The old man continued, “I was talking to a friend who works at the police. She’s been looking for a sniffer animal. I’ve suggested she try the pig out.”
“But she won’t be any—” Isabella started.
The old man chuckled, “Don’t tell my police friend that. She’s already agreed to buy her. We’re making a decent sum off her too. Call it a finders fee.”
Isabella loaded Tina back into the trailer. There, Tina sat, thinking. “Although they know I’m not good at this, they’re shipping me off to do the same work for someone else. What a waste of time. I just want to return to truffle hunting.”
Tina arrived at a training facility. Tina’s handler, Officer Maria, led her out of the trailer. The facility was bustling with activity, police officers and their canine partners practising drills.
“Okay, no sense wasting time,” Officer Maria said, “Let’s get you training.” Officer Maria began by training Tina to follow scent trails through mazes. Then, they practised locating hidden evidence in simulated crime scenes. “You’ve got a great nose,” Officer Maria smiled, “It’s time to get you out in the field.” Officer Maria loaded Tina into a truck and drove to a forest. She held out a childs t-shirt for Tina to sniff. “Go on girl, track it.”
Snout to the ground, Tina followed a trail as she had been taught. But in a forest full of distractions, Tina smelled something else. Something better. She led Officer Maria onwards, to a campsite, with a solitary tent. She dug straight into it and rifled through a stash of food. Officer Maria sighed. “Tina! Stop that!”
Tina looked at Officer Maria, and then trotted off. She had already started on a second scent. This one, a little stronger.
“What is it, Tina?” Officer Maria asked, chasing Tina to a nearby tree. Tina had already started feasting on something.
“Tina, what have you—” Officer Maria vomited.
“Well, Tina, you helped close a cold missing persons case. But you’ve also made our evidence inadmissible. The dogs never do that. I’m sorry, I can’t justify keeping you.”
Tina found herself back at the auction yard, in the holding pen. The auction hall buzzed with activity, the familiar sound of the auctioneer’s voice echoing through the air. “That was so pointless,” Tina thought.
An hour or two later, Tina was loaded into an old rusty trailer by an elderly farmer named Farmer Rossi. He smiled, “I can’t believe how cheap you were. Practically free.” He drove Tina to a sprawling farm on the outskirts of town.
“The job is simple,” Farmer Rossi smiled, patting her on the back as he unloaded her. “I just want help managing the farm's waste.”
A young boy walked up, chuckling, “It’s just a pig grandpa, it can’t understand you.”
Farmer Rossi smiled, “You never know, Gio.”
“You just want someone to listen to you, Old Man!” Gio chuckled.
Farmer Rossi laughed. “Maybe.”
Tina was led to a trough, filled with piles of vegetable peels and food scraps..
“Eat up, this is your job now,” Farmer Rossi said. “It’s a good gig, isn’t it?”
Tina repeated this routine for weeks. There was always plenty to eat. Her strong snout and powerful jaws made short work of even the toughest vegetable scraps. Farmer Rossi would often watch her work, nodding approvingly, “I know it’s simple, but we value the work you do.”
One night, Tina sat quietly. While her stomach was filled with nutritious food, she still felt unfulfilled, her heart empty. The next day, she ate, but with less vigour. While checking the compost heaps, Farmer Rossi paused beside her pen, “You’ve done good work here, Tina. But I can see it in your eyes. You’re not happy.” He threw an apple core into the trough. “Although, you know there’s more to life than work, don’t you? I felt the same once, I felt that work was all there was. I felt that I was just a farmer. But then I had a son, and so I became a father. And now, as you know, I’m a grandfather…” He sighed, tapping his ageing hand on the railing around her pen. “It’s comfortable here… Don’t you think?”
Tina gobbled down the apple core, and curled up to sleep, “Am I more than a truffle pig? Am I more than a waste disposal pig? Maybe I could have a kid? Maybe I could be a mother?”
Tina was jolted awake by the sound of hushed voices and the creak of the gate. Rough hands grabbed her, and, before she could so much as squeal, hoisted her into a van. The doors slamming shut behind her, and the van rumbled to life, speeding away.
The place she was brought to was nothing like the peaceful farm. It was a dingy, foul-smelling warehouse, filled with heaps of rotting garbage and the stench of decay. The men used snarling dogs to cajole her into their make-shift pen. She joined ten hogs, bathing in filth. They all looked terribly dejected.
The men brought out a slurry of bones and mushed fats and liquids, “Eat up.” Tina followed their orders, as did the others. For the next week, Tina ate. But the more she ate, the worse she felt. “Things are getting desperate,” she thought.
One morning, the criminals left the gate open. Tina trotted out. One noticed and tried to grab her. But she bolted, breaking his grip. She ran deep into the surrounding forest, trees surrounding her, reminiscent of her time hunting truffles. She slowed. But from behind, she heard the bark of the dogs and the shouts of the criminals. No, she couldn’t stop yet. And so, she dashed through the underbrush, ducking under low branches, and between tree trunks. The sound of barking dogs and shouting criminals slowly fading away. “Phew,” she said. She’d finally lost them. But she was exhausted. The chase had taken its toll.
Starving and desperate, Tina wandered through the forest, her energy reserves depleted. She sniffed the ground, searching for any sign of food. Nothing. Then, suddenly, that all too familiar scent. Faint but unmistakable. She followed her snout, finding her way to a spot beneath a towering oak tree. She began to dig, her hooves churning up the soil. She found the truffle and devoured it.
For days, Tina wandered the forest, surviving on whatever she could find. One day, however, her keen nose picked up a different familiar scent, one that stirred a mix of nostalgia and longing within her. She followed it cautiously. And as she got closer, the smell got stronger. And finally, through the trees, she saw Marco, sitting on a fallen log. Next to him sat Tiana and Tatiana. He seemed lost in thought.
Tina paused, watching from a distance. She remembered the days they had spent together, the bonds they had formed, and the struggles they had faced. But she had changed. She had been a truffle hunter, a racing pig, a security sniffer, a compost eater, a criminal, and even, a game pig. But she was more than any single role, She was more than any single job, which could be taken away in an instant. No. She was more than all that. She was a pig, a pig named Tina.
Related topics
Job loss
Career mobility
Artifical intelligence