Porcupines and pigs
Porcupines seem too exotic an animal to be indigenous to Italy. Nevertheless, they seem common enough judging by the number killed on the roads. I think they’re largely nocturnal: I saw a family of them once, caught in my headlights at the side of a country road on a moonlit night - cantering along, quills clacking.
We’ve been experiencing them in a different way recently: one has decided that our garden is a deli worth exploring and has busily dug up the lawn every night. I’ve put netting across the bottom of the garden gate, assuming them to be too big to get through the railings – and hoped for the best.
Last night I heard some snuffling, oink-like sounds outside. I didn’t know porcupines sound like pigs, I thought, but didn’t leap out to investigate as I’d seen a scorpion hanging about the doorframe earlier (Italy and its wildlife!) and didn’t fancy a barefoot encounter with either.
It turned out the pork wasn’t of the spiny variety, but a wild boar. Maurizio, full time nursing lecturer, spare time naturalist, watched a large cinghiale noshing the walnuts from his tree, about 20 metres away. I think this was a ‘yah-boo-sucks’, nose thumbing exercise on the part of the pig, as hunters (of which there are several in this frazione) cannot shoot at it until the end of the month.
Tonight I’m going to keep a pair of shoes and binoculars by the bed, just in case.
