About 17 years ago my father John Fitzgerald, was after buying a pig at the market, two days before May Eve.
The day after May Eve, on the 1st of May the pig died. My father was surprised when he died, because he was a fine health pig.
A few days after my father was down at the end of the field, and he got two young dead pigs in the dike. Thinking of nothing he threw them out over the ditch.
When he came back he told my mother what he had seen. She said it should be piseogs.