As is a common practice at the end of a day's dove hunt, a half dozen of us gathered around the tailgate (and, not coincidentally, the beer cooler) to field dress our birds. The wings were clipped and the backs and guts simply dropped in the dirt next to the truck.

When we returned to hunt the next morning to the same spot there were only a few stray feathers in evidence -- no heads, guts, or even WINGS -- but plenty of hog tracks. I mean, those hogs cleaned up!

I think I now know a very effective way to combine wing shooting and porcine hunting.

They'll eat damn near anything! Next time you should ambush them at that spot!

my uncle used to feed everything that died on his farm to them and nothing left but pig sh*t

if you get real bored and have a pen of hogs ,,,harvest one ,butcher,, throw the guts and leftovers into the pen,,and wonder the next day where it went... its where the saying[havent had this much fun since the pigs ate my little brother]] came from

My grandfather had pinkeye infect his sheep herd years ago. Until it ran its course it was my job to wheelbarrow any dead sheep to a barrel, burn it, and throw what was left to the hogs. They seemed to enjoy it. I was glad when school started again.