The Porcupine Came Down
Prickly animal belonging to J.M. Charles is shot.
Eau Claire Weekly Telegram November 27th, 1902

For some time J.M. Charles has been the possessor of a porcupine- at least the animal made his abode in the yard adjoining Mr. Charles’ residence on South Farwell street. “Porky” was quite a pet and would go through a number of tricks at Mr. Charles’ command. The little fellow was a familiar sight to the neighbors and passers-by, and it was with curiosity that he was observed, nearly a week ago, to ascend into the higher branches of a tree in the yard, and remain there. Everything possible was done to persuade him to descend; he declined to do so. The tree was so tall and slender, and yesterday believing further effort to be futile, and rather than to allow the animal to starve Mr. Charles secured a rifle and brought him tumbling to the ground. The residents of that portion of the city will know little “Porky” no more, but some secured sharp little quills to remember him.

Chad’s Take- Eau Claire’s Old Yeller

I hate to admit that I had never head of “Porky” before I read this article. How could a story featuring a pet porcupine capable of performing multiple tricks escape me? I guess it just shows that the Chippewa Valley can always surprise you, no matter how many weird stories you have been privy to. However, I suspect that there had to be more to this story than the article included. How else could the neighborhood become so attached to a porcupine that they felt the need to secure some of his lifeless quills as remembrances?

I dug up this article a little over a week ago, and now that I have had some time to sit with it, I can truly say that I wish I never heard of Porky. My reasoning for turning on this article is due to the fact that for the last week my mind has been overloaded with questions about Porky. Usually when I find these stories I write about them and have no trouble moving on to the next article.

Yet this story about Porky the porcupine was different somehow. Instead of simply forgetting about it and moving on, I found myself on numerous occasions throughout the previous week wishing that I had a little more information about Porky. What tricks could he perform? How long did Mr. Charles have him? Where did he come from? Where did he sleep? Was he buried somewhere? Did they have a funeral service? Was a marker placed at his grave? What did the neighbors do with the quills? Now you can see why I do not like this article, because I continue to obsess about these questions nearly two weeks later, which perhaps answers my own question as to how the neighborhood got so attached to Porky in the first place. Damn this article.

Keep an eye out,
Chad Lewis