TATER TOT SQUEALS THE SHOW
He’s Dormont’s unofficial mascot and official Goodwill Ambassador who’s a good pig?
One afternoon in late October, crossing guard Cheryl Herrington arrived at her assigned intersection in Dormont, just as she’s done five days a week for the past 12 years. But this time was different: It was her last one.
Herrington, 78, has only served as a crossing guard on Hillsdale Avenue and mostly at the intersection where Rachel Fawley lives, which is why Fawley and her partner, Brandon Lunglhofer, greeted her that day with a colorful handmade sign, wishing her well in retirement.
After the three exchanged hugs and Herrington’s final shift wound down, there was one final to-do before she called it a career: She needed a picture with Tater Tot.
Tater is Fawley and Lunglhofer’s 150pound rescued Juliana mini pig, who joined their family in 2020. But as COVID19 restrictions shut the world down, his rolequickly turned from private to public.
Elderly neighbors and those with special needs family members made it a point to walk by and visit with Tater Tot while maintaining a safe distance. And as children returned to school, he was a bright spot for them every weekday afternoon, which made Herrington’s job both a delight and a challenge.
“The kids would want to run across the street to see him, and I’d have to yell, ‘Now, don’t run over to Tater!’” she recalled with a laugh.
Running to see Tater wasn’t unique to children, however, which is how he became Dormont’s unofficial mascot and, per a mayoral proclamation, the town’s official Goodwill Ambassador.
Getting to know you
On Fawley and Lunglhofer’s first date in early 2018, they never made it to the movie theater as planned. Instead they just “babbled” about themselves, as Fawley puts it.
They learned how many people they both knew, though they’d only recently crossed paths. But maybe the bigger coincidence was their mutual love for pigs.
Lunglhofer is a “country boy” from Altoona. Fawley’s fondness for pigs began in childhood when she watched “Charlotte’s Web.” And while their affection for the snorting creatures could have ended there, they also both wanted to own one.
Many dates and a move-in later, that time came when Fawley learned her service representative job for Verizon would become remote for six weeks as the pandemic reached the U.S. in 2020.
Through The Pig Placement Network, the couple connected with a woman in Ohio whose brother, with Down syndrome, was moving in with her. She worried her pig would overstimulate him.
It was a heartbreaking situation for the woman, who had already rejected 20 or so applicants. But after a two-hour phone call with Fawley and an in-person meeting at her Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, home, Tater Tot found a new family.
But his happily ever after soon hit a bump in the dirt road.
‘That one person’
Tater is house-broken and full-grown. To accommodate his species’ slow metabolism, he eats just a half cup of “mini pig pellets” twice each day, along with fresh veggies, dehydrated sweet potato slices and bites from his preferred patches of grass in the front yard.
Much of the odor associated with pigs is caused by their hormones, but because Tater is neutered, he has no scent.
Despite his refinement, the Fawley-Langlhofers received a citation from Dormont shortly after Tater joined their family. A neighbor complained that his presence violated the “no farm animals” ordinance.
“Rachel sent the council a 57-page dissertation of why Tater is an asset to the community,” Langlhofer said with pride.
In it, she insisted that Tater was not a farm animal, since his breed is meant for domestic companionship, not consumption. She included letters from veterinarians, and pointed out that at 150 pounds, he’s a fraction of the weight of farm hogs, which range from 8001,200 pounds.
Borough council rewrote the code to avoid misidentifying animals like Tater in the future, but all the hubbub surrounding the “Tater TotCode” had an unforeseen effect: It spread the news about his kindness.
“He’s really got a knack with the special needs kids around here,” Fawley said. “If there’s a hyper kid, he’ll match them and be really energetic.
If they need him to be more gentle, he’ll just sit with them.”
A young woman with special needs in the area is the only person other than Rachel whom Tater will allow to hug him with her whole body.
Elderly residents of a nearby apartment building told Fawley and Langlhofer that Tater Tot was their reason to take a walk when they were feeling isolated during the pandemic.
“It made us feel like we had a purpose,” Fawley said. “So many people did impulsive things during quarantine, but for us, we got Tater, and he had a purpose.”
As restrictions loosened
and public events resumed, Tater made appearances at Dormont festivals, reveling in photo ops and friendly petting from longtime friends and new ones.
When the chatter reached Mayor Jason Walsh, he was also convinced of Tater’s purpose.
Rightful recognition
On Aug. 3, 2021, Walsh personally wrote a proclamation not only applauding Tater’s efforts for the public good but bestowing upon him the official title of Goodwill Ambassador.
“It has been fabulous to have Tater in our community,” he wrote to the PostGazette. “Tater has the ability
to bring people together.
“Additionally, Tater’s human companions have been so graceful in handling Tater’s new-found fame. Everywhere Tater goes, people smile.”
And so does Tater, to the surprise of many. He’s an emotional creature with a range of reactions, from crying real tears to unmistakable smiles.
He can count, Lunglhofer reports, and bonds with his beagle sister, Miley, and the newest addition to the family, another domesticated pig named Patty Cakes, adopted from Pigsburgh Squealers Rescue in March.
But at least for now, Tater still steals (squeals?) the
show.
Just after Herrington posed for her last few pictures with Tater, a group of children raced up the street yelling, “Hey, is that Tater Tot?”
The comments were a segue to a discussion about the next big, uncommon dream Fawley and Lunglhofer happen to share: to open an educational sanctuary farm where the public can respectfully interact with animals for mutual enjoyment.
“Now that we’ve seen what animals like Tater can do for people, and how it
helps the animals, too, I feel like I’ve seen what we should be doing,” Fawley said.
“I love the joy he brings to people,” Lunglhofer said. “With everything going on since COVID, it gives them something else to talk about, something else to think about.
“People need to realize that some of these animals aren’t food: They can be therapeutic.”