When I started investigating playthings in Antiquity, I came across a different but similar rattle at the British Museum, which you can see here. The object, small in size and amusing in appearance, made me smile instantly. A terracotta rattle shaped as a pig? Oh yes!

I liked the fact that it was a faithful representation of a pig, and found it interesting to think about how children might have associated domestic animals with fun and companionship. Then I researched a bit further and to my surprise and delight realised that it was by no means unique.

A browse through the collections of the Getty, the Met and the British Museum brought up a lovely selection of terracotta pig or boar rattles, some even with little children sitting on them. Some are quite realistic, while others are more stylised, such as the one I have chosen for my portrait.

The first question I asked myself was, why pigs? The J. Paul Getty Museum helped me get my bearings — in Antiquity, pigs were offered as sacrifices to gods such as Demeter and Persephone in return for their protection of children and those who raised them.

Rattles such as these might have also had a ritual side to them, as their sounds might have been used to ‘ward off evil’ (i.e. disease and death). Some of these pig rattles were found in burials with infants and young children, together with other grave goods.

I could have easily chosen to portray any one of the rattles I found during my research, but I have a special soft spot for this pig’s character. He (or she?) is slightly lopsided, and has a rather quizzical expression on his face – I think it might be his eyes. Are those eyebrows? I have the slight suspicion that he is not a serious pig.

I enjoy seeing stylised lines in ancient artifacts — the pig almost looks like a modern cartoon. I can easily picture him waddling towards someone, eyebrows raised, making a silly comment. He has an air of ‘It wasn’t me!’ about him.

I think of a small sleepy child in a tunic and bare feet, grabbing the pig and rattling its contents. Next to her, a woman prepares food, clanking kitchen utensils. She looks over her shoulder and coos at the child. A bump, a moan. The woman reaches down to the floor, picks up the rattle, and hands it back to the child. There.