On Michael's Island, I Rode a Boar!

Here is a story Michael the naturalist told at one of his talks at the Golden Princess about a part of his two year stay at an isolated island in Alaska:

When Michael told his Italian mother about his stay on the lonely island at Alaska, she immediately reached into her bag of Italian superstitions.
"Oh Michael," she whispered. "My eye is twitching! That surely means a death!"
Speaking of his mother, this woman was a city girl. Every Wednesday, she went to have her nails done. Every Saturday, she had her hair done. And she was never more than two miles from a mall.
Despite his superstitious mother, Michael went to his destination anyway.
One day, the Coast Guard arrived in a float plane near Michael's cabin. There was a telegraph with them. It was from his mother:
MICHAEL, I'M COMING TO YOUR ISLAND
He was surprised. Michael's island was more than a hundred miles away from the nearest shopping mall. But even the date was included on the paper.
Before his mother arrived, Michael received another telegraph:
MICHAEL, CARRY A LOADED RIFLE WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES. BOTH OF MY EYES ARE TWITCHING. THAT MEANS TWO DEATHS!
On the promised date, Michael's mother arrived in a float plane, expectantly clutching a purse.
The three days went by perfectly. Nothing went wrong, the rifle was always prepared, and they even caught a ten-pound fish together.
The third night, the two were eating spaghetti with his mother's best tomato sauce from Cicily packed in her suitcase. They drank coffee and tea together, because they didn't want to let go of each other. The next morning, Michael's mother would have to leave. Finally, they went to bed.
At 2:00 AM, Michael's mother had to go to the bathroom.
At 2:01 AM, Michael heard a blood-curdling scream.
We must hit PAUSE. Before Michael's mother arrived, a Russian introduced four wild pigs to the island. They bred faster than rabbits! Soon there were forty wild boars running around the small island.
There was also a cougar in the island. Every third night, he would come out to hunt for a juicy, fat pig or two to bring home and satisfy his carnivorous appetite.
Pigs are smart. They learned the cougar's stealthy death pattern and figured that to escape the cougar, they needed someplace to go. Somewhere that they could hide.
Unfortunately, the hiding spot was Michael's outhouse. When Michael built it, he didn't make a door. Why bother? His nearest human neighbor was twelve miles away. And it was so relaxing to sit and watch the bald eagles soar by.
It was the third night of the cougar hunt, and there were the pigs, piled up in the tiny outhouse. So Michael grabbed his gun and rushed outside. He pointed it at a pink figure standing in front of him. But he couldn't pull the trigger. That was his MOTHER standing right there! He dropped the rifle and stared at the comical sight in the light of the full moon.
His mother was holding her nightgown up to her knee on one side, like one would do when a mouse scurries by. But this wasn't a 'shoo, mousy' matter. There were pigs darting through his mother's legs.
Women and children first. The baby pigs were first to come squealing out of the outhouse. Then the mamas, the the papas. By this time, the boars were so big that Michael's mother's legs were shaking as the enormous bulk of fat and fur squeezed between her legs.
Here was an interesting totem pole with an interesting story: Woman Giving Birth To Pigs. Or rather: Woman In Frilly Pink Nightgown Giving Birth To Pigs.
No, the pigs weren't done yet. There was one more. A three-hundred pound beast with five-inch long tusks: Boarest. "Mom, run!" She couldn't. Worse, she had a mild case of jelly legs, where you legs shake like mad.
But Michael was friendly with the pigs. He called them by name and threw them excess fish for food. And big Boarest understood that the thing was a babe of the woods, and she meant him no harm at all. So he bowed his head before running out, and he didn't gore Michael's mother. But with a lowered head, he couldn't see where he was going, and he bumped the shaking pink thing. Michael watched as his mother flew into the air, and landed on the pig's back.
Who was screaming louder, his mother or the surprised pig? An animal's most sensitive parts are the nose and ears. His mother was twisting Boarest's ears like they were rope. The the boar started running crazily across the tundra before tossing off his rider.
Oh no! The grass was tall, and Michael couldn't find his mother. Then there was a flash of pink. His mother sat up, her favorite laced pink nightgown from Cicily all matted in boar hair.
When Michael and his two older brothers meet each other, they arm wrestle to see who's stronger. And their mother would always say, "You boys think you're so tough. But on Michael's island, I found a two-thousand pound boar and I rode him. I got him to turn left, then right, before I calmly dismounted. And we caught an eight-hundred pound fish together."
A few weeks ago, Michael received a call.
"Michael, I'm going to your island again. If you can get me a brown bear and saddle him up, I'm sure he would let me ride him."