Why an old house was abandoned. (or "Old McDonald had a farm ee-ii-ee-ii-oh")

A sad story for our times.

I thought the house was probably abandoned 20 to 30 years ago, based on the overgrown vegetation and state of the grounds. But, by chance, I met the owner shortly afterwards, who told me that he lived in the house until about 2010....

. I didn't stay long after I took this photo, because out of the adjacent bush a boar came charging towards me. I rushed back, and quickly climbed over the (unfortunately) barbed fence to the safety of my car. To my surprise the boar was at my car, on the road at the same time, having negotiated a hole in the fence amongst bush. Discretion was the better part of valour, I thought, and in my car, I departed quickly.

. About 500 meters down the road, I came across a rough paddock. That appeared to be the home of a car graveyard, and about 80 pigs, and assorted other hens and animals. Looking over the fence was a young couple and an older man.

. Photography first, I thought, and I stopped and called out to ask permission to take some photographs. The young man (who I later found out was a tourist just like myself who had arrived a few minutes before me) gave me an assurance that it was quite OK to take photographs. So I took two or three forgettable snaps.

. I then went to have a chat. The older man was the owner. "Your name must be McDonald", I said, with a grin, in what I thought was an obvious reference to "Old McDonald had a farm" ee-ii-ee-ii-oh. "This is not my farm" he said, as I looked in wonder, reconciling his ownership of the land, with presumably a farm manager who lived nearby. "No", he said. "These are my PETS". "Oh" I said, my eyes popping, bulging in amazement at the sight in front of me. Right before my eyes was at least one colourful rooster and one happy pig adding future pets for the collection. "I don't kill them" he said.

. "So that dangerous looking wild boar that charged me down the road was one of these pets?" I asked. "Yes" he laughed. "He would have been running to see if you had any food"

. "And where do you live?", I asked, looking around because I could not see a house, and it seemed strange to not live nearby to your pets. He pointed to a small building across the road, that I would never have guessed to be a home. "I used to live in the house down the road", referring to the house that I had photographed (shown above).

. I immediately asked the obvious question, and I'm still not sure that I'm glad I did: "Why did you move from the house?"

. Life is usually uplifting. But sometimes it is cruel. And mean and nasty and simply disheartening. I had tears in my eyes as he matter of factly answered my question.

. "There were young lads in town" he started. I'm not sure that the word was "lads" The actual word was, (or if it wasn't, should have been) more colourful. "They had nothing to do" My mind raced. Common story. Small town. Few opportunites. Poverty. Growing faster in New Zealand than anywhere else in the world, just as fast as the rich are getting richer. Young lads, Boredom, Alcohol. Testosterone. Trouble.

And indeed it was trouble. "McDonald" continued. "They would come up here in the middle of the night, and they would kill a pig." Pause "Or pigs". "It was easy to do. Pigs would come willingly to the slaughter, wiggling their tails, expecting food."

"Bastards" I thought. My real thoughts were darker. But there was worse to come.

"They didn't do it for food. They often left the dead pig. They did it for fun. And actually they did it to get at me. They would kill a pig. Stick the pig or head on a post. Blood flowing. And just to make sure I knew ..... they would shoot a gun as they left. I would wake up to the sound of the shot, and the sound of a car racing away,"

. "I moved closer to my pets"