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August 10, 2007

Takin' Bacon

Takin' Bacon

by author, former police detective and that hunka-hunka burnin' love, Lee Lofland

Crime-solving is not always as easy as television would have us believe. Sometimes police officers really have to work hard to get to the bottom of a particularly complex case. Cops use a variety of means to crack each of their cases, but one really unusual series of events comes to mind when I think about using odd crime-solving techniques. This is a true story . . . really, it is.

As most of you know, I was a police detective for many years and part of my job was to solve major crimes, such as murder, rape and robbery. Sure, I paid my dues early in my career by writing tickets and directing traffic, but my real passion was the puzzle-solving that's associated with tracking down a murderer.

Before most detectives are allowed to investigate the more serious crimes, though, they're normally assigned to easier, less intricate cases such as bad checks and stolen tricycles. One of my introductory cases was unusual to say the least.  My boss dispatched me to get to the bottom of a rash of stolen hogs. No, not the cool and expensive motorcycles--real pigs, as in walking pork chops.

Someone was stealing live four or five-hundred pound porkers directly from a farmer's hog farm, and they were taking at least one or two each weekend. The pigs were kept in many buildings on the large farm, so my partner and I thought the best way to nab these guys was to wait inside one of the hog parlors until the criminals arrived to do their dirty deed. Our plan was simple; when the crooks entered the building we were going to jump up, turn on the lights and nab the rustlers in the act of felony pig-napping.

Friday came and just before dark, we entered one of the hog shelters and sat down on a bench to wait.  I soon discovered that the stench of pig feces and other goodies was overwhelming. I also learned that pigs are sneaky, and they have very cold, and very wet noses.

We'd been hanging out for nearly two hours when we heard someone open a door and come inside. We both drew our weapons and waited, allowing the thieves enough time to begin the act of stealing. We wanted to catch them red-handed.

It had only been a matter of minutes when a bright light flashed. Then came another flash, and then another. I realized, detective material that I was, that the bad guys were taking pictures. Confused by their actions, but anxious to catch the guys, we couldn't stand it any longer. We jumped up, aimed our Beretta 9mms in the general direction of the thugs, and turned on the lights.

I was shocked, to say the least, when I saw that one of the young men was standing directly behind a female pig (a sow, as they're properly addressed) with his pants down around his ankles. He was actually having sex with a big, fat, female pig, and his buddy was taking pictures of him while he did it. They both had the same deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression on their faces.

We immediately placed the two crooks under arrest and took them to the sheriff's office for processing (that's "booking" to laypeople.) During my questioning of the guy who'd been literally caught with his pants down, the embarrassed animal lover confessed to stealing over one-hundred pigs from several different farms over the past few weeks. At the end of his confession, he shook his head and asked me how we found out they were going to be there that night.  He went on to say that they'd been extremely careful not to leave behind an evidence trail of any kind.

I smiled because the perfect answer crept forward from that goofy spot in my head. I looked at the guy and said, "How did we know you were coming?  It's simple, the pig squealed on you."

He just shook his head slowly from side-to-side. After all, what could he have said to justify his little affair with Petunia?

I really should mention that the thief was married, and he wasn't practicing safe sex with his porcine partner, if you know what I mean. So, if you're ever having a bad day, just be really thankful that you're not married to this guy. Unless you don't mind that he's literally bringing home the bacon.

Lee Lofland is the author of Police Procedure and Investigation, A Guide For Writers, released this week from Writers Digest Books. A popular conference speaker and freelance writer (check out his piece in The Writer magazine!) he's also a consultant for bestselling authors and TV and film writers. He recently appeared as an expert on the BBC documentary, How To Commit the Perfect Murder. Someday, the Tarts are going to ask him to cook for us, too, 'cause rumor has it, he's got major kitchen skills.

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Comments

But I don't understand. Why marry the pig when you can pork for free?

A fine stand-in for a Margie Friday.

Bravo, Lee! What a way to start the morning....

Thanks a lot, Lee. Now I'll be hearing banjo music, from that movie Deliverance, all day long.

According to (best friend) Officer Deb, a guy robbed a clerk a few weeks ago by threatening him with a frozen turkey. I don't think he had sex with it, though.

Brilliant blog, Lee! SarahS recently forwarded a news story about a guy in Vermont doing the same thing with cows. Too weird!

I've investigated a ton of weird cases in my day, but the pig-pocketers was one of the wackiest.

We found out later that both guys had had sex with pigs. They took turns snapping the incriminating pictures as evidence so one guy wouldn't tell on the other.

Ugh!

Great line though. It's a darned good thing that you only had to wait for two hours. Imagine if they decided not to visit the place on that night. You might have had to repeat that stake out on subsequent nights.

I'm wondering, were they trying to sell these photographs on the internet? In the SPAM messages I get, sometimes the subject lines deal with people loving farm animals and I just do an automatic purge without opening.

I. JUST. DON'T. WANT. TO. KNOW. OR. SEE. MORE.

Thanks,

Linda

P.S. When is your book going to arrive at Amazon.com?

Love the story...Now I just have to get the picture of pants around ankles out of my mind so I can get some work done! Love the book too by the way. Read parts of it on the way home from Portland (I had plenty of time sitting on various tarmacs in Portland and Chicago).
Glad to see you on this hot and humid Friday :o)

Maryann

Lee, I can't believe you finally put this story in writing.

What a hoot!

Lee, was it consensual sex, do you think? I mean, on the pig's end.

p.s. I look forward to having you cook for us, as long as the recipe doesn't call for . . . well, you know. Some of us are vegetarians, and this morning I feel vindicated for that life choice. You just don't know where that pork chop has been.

They each held on to the photos of their partner-in-crime. They felt confident that by doing so, neither would tell on the other.

Hey, just think of this story each time you have pork chops for dinner. That could have been sombody's lover at one time.

Maryann, I'm glad to hear you're enjoying the book. It shocked me that it sold out so quickly.

Linda, (Good to hear from you)I don't know what the hold up is with Amazon. I know the book is available. I'm sure things will fall into place, soon. I did hear that there were far more orders than they anticipated (which is a good thing). Hey, I don't even have a copy anymore. After they sold out last weekend someone pleaded with me to sell mine, which I did.

I do think it was consensual, and the pig was of legal age. That's why we didn't run her in, too.

Was that a pun, Harley? "The pig's end."

Joyce, I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to tell the tale, even if it is a curly tale.

What I want to know is why they stole the pigs after having sex with them. I mean, were they like serial killer keepsakes or something? And I even hate to ask---did they eat the pigs they stole? Because that's a fetish that . . . .well, nevermind. Let me enjoy the fantasy that those pigs were set free on a cruelty free farm----and I don't mean the Chicken Ranch!

Great story, Lee. Thanks for the entertainment.

What did they do with the stolen pigs? Why did they need to transport them when they could poke the pigs in their pens? Inquiring minds want to know.

They sold the pigs in various markets. A pig the size of these plus-size sweethearts brought the thieves between two and three-hundred dollars each. Sometimes more.

The pokin' came prior to the stealin'.

Nancy, unfortunately these pigs (as do other sexually abused livestock) more than likely made thier way into the nation's food supply. Yep, those little piggies went to market.

Eeewwwwwww! What is the MATTER with people!? (I ask I sit here shuddering.)

I just want to say . . .

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

And me with a lovely pork loin roast in my refrigerator . . .

Also, Lee, you could be arrested for all those puns in some states :)

Puns? That's the way I wrote my police report...

The worst part was getting a statement from the pig. She was pretty upset.

Kind of gives new meaning to "Pig in a poke"
don't you think? (Sorry, that just sprang un bidden to my overworked mind )

THE SILENCE (AND CIGARETTE SMOKE) OF THE SWINE, the new best-seller by Lee Lofland, in stores now . . .

So PP&I,AGFW is sold out already? Damn!! T'ain't fair! Congratulations, Lee!


*snort*

Just out of curiosity, have you ever been to a Cajun boucherie, Lee? After this story, I would understand how you might not have a taste for it.

And to think, I rented the new Charlotte's Web to watch this weekend. There goes that plan....

The thing is, as I understand it from Lee, this is one of the stories he CAN tell in public! :)

Lee, I remember you telling us this story at dinner at the Pennwriters Conference, and it's just as hilarious and disturbing now as it was back in May. So I wonder, is this story in your book??

Lee,
Thanks for the disturbing start to my day:). It's great hearing a true story from the trenches. Truth is defnitely stranger than fiction, yikes.

I didn't include this particular story in my book, but there are others. Some are actually serious accounts of cases and events.

I think I recognize that "snort." That must be Bill cameron. I'm reading your book, Bill. It is simply fantastic.

Becky's right, this is one of the nicer tales from my crypt. It only goes downhill from here.

The everyday person just doesn't realize some of the odd things officers encounter.

I guess I could tell the story of the car I stopped late one night because the driver was weaving all over the road. I thought the guy was drunk, but when I walked up to the car window I discovered that he wasn't wearing pants and his male corrections officer buddy was totally naked and handcuffed to the passenger's door. But this is a story for another day. That, and the one about the woman who dug up fresh graves. Oh, oh, and there's the one about the guy who snuck into funeral homes at night...

Leave it to Lee to start my day off right : ) Good thing I'm a vegetarian.

I love Lee dearly, but I don't know if I'd want him cooking anything. Especially, the places he's been. ;)

I'm waiting to hear of other odd work-related stories. Mine can't be the only one.

About twenty years ago, I was working as a letter carrier in Foxboro, MA (go Patriots). One guy on my route would come OUTSIDE and get his mail from me - naked. And it was November. Can you say, "shrinkage"?

Sorry to repeat but..EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Of course, as a nurse in "my other life", I've seen or heard about a number of "interesting sexual fetishes". Just one...an older woman came in with the chief complaint of "a tree growing out of her Virginia" Upon exam, this lady had put a potato up her "virginia" to hold up her prolapsed uterus. So, yes, there was a tree in her virginia.

The guy with a carrot up his...well, that's another story!

Thanks for totally grossing me out today, Lee!

We once encountered a group of underage kid's who were doing wine enemas at a party. Seems the alcohol enters the system faster that way and they thought they wouldn't get caught drinking because no one could smell the alcohol on their breath.

So, I'm guessing you didn't report the naked guy? The view must not have been too bad...

Okay, so now I have to add potato salad and carrots to the list of stuff I won't eat.

Ewww! There are some seriously messed up people in our world. Maybe they watched Charlotte's web or Gordy too many times growing up.

Oh, yuck, but still...I'm ROFL!

I thought these stories of sexual assaults on farm animals were rural legends. I know I was happier believing that!

I'm sending you my therapy bill, Lee!

I'm speechless today. Seriously, is chicken safe? Otherwise, we're screwed. Or something is . . . maybe everthing? Fish maybe ok? I concur . . . eeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Still, thanks for the laugh. You may get more than one bill for therapy.

Sorry Rebecca, but these stories are true. As proof I'll leave you guys with an old law that's still on the books:

In Oklahoma, it is illegal to have the hind legs of any animal in your boots.

(You can find more of these silly laws listed in my book).

I had a great time today. Thanks for having me, guys. Think of me the next time you sit down to a big plate of spare ribs. Better yet, think of poor Petunia.

Please forward all bills for therapy to Nancy Martin.

Yeah, truth is stranger than fiction – unfortunately.

Reminds me of a joke (hope it’s a joke, anyway) a coworker told me about a lonely Foreign Legionnaire posted to the desert. Lonely. V-e-r-y lonely.

His buddy tells him about the annual camel caravan, and that it can help his loneliness problem. His first reaction, like those above, is “Ewwwww!” But loneliness gets the better of him.

On the appointed day the caravan arrives. The Legionnaire, like the pig-pokers, is discovered in flagrante delicto with a camel. The buddy asks him what he’s doing. The reply: “You told me that the camels will help me with my – uh – problem.”

His buddy: “Yeah. We take the camels and ride them into town to meet the women!”

Couldn’t these pig-lovin’ guys in Lee’s story just have made a nice roast for dinner, served a little vino, and invited a couple of local gals to join them instead?

Yeah, truth is stranger than fiction – unfortunately.

Reminds me of a joke (hope it’s a joke, anyway) a coworker told me about a lonely Foreign Legionnaire posted to the desert. Lonely. V-e-r-y lonely.

His buddy tells him about the annual camel caravan, and that it can help his loneliness problem. His first reaction, like those above, is “Ewwwww!” But loneliness gets the better of him.

On the appointed day the caravan arrives. The Legionnaire, like the pig-pokers, is discovered in flagrante delicto with a camel. The buddy asks him what he’s doing. The reply: “You told me that the camels will help me with my – uh – problem.”

His buddy: “Yeah. We take the camels and ride them into town to meet the women!”

Couldn’t these pig-lovin’ guys in Lee’s story just have made a nice roast for dinner, served a little vino, and invited a couple of local gals to join them instead?

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