More Little Piggies

Para and Cricket, our two large white but not piglets were growing well.  They both seemed to be rather daft but Para more so.  Cricket was clearly the dominant one but Para seemed not to mind.

Para and Cricket.

I had someone tell me that I needed to be out with my sunscreen, sunblocking my pigs.  I was skeptical.  They assured me that this is what you have to do with pigs.  I drive past a pig farm at least once a week, I somehow can’t see the farmer out there rubbing his SPF 30+ over his hundreds of sows that are larger than he is.  The friend that we got these two from said that her stepfather sprays used engine oil over his pigs as sunblock.  That was verified by others.  It put me off ever buying supermarket pork again.  I won’t put baby oil on my kids because it’s made from petroleum products, why would I feed it to them?

Another friend grew up on a pig farm.  Her father never did any of these things.  He just made sure that they had shade if they wanted to use it.

A wallow is not just fun for pigs, the mud that they coat themselves in works as a sunblock.  It’s a natural way that pigs do for themselves and they only seem to do it when it’s sunny and they’re in danger of getting burnt.  Well, except for Para.  Para was daft.  He had a lovely nature but was daft.  He wouldn’t roll or play in the wallow and was always dry-skinned, peeling and sunburnt.

I was still determined to have a breeding pair so I started looking for a sow.  I’d decided to keep Para for a boar because he was the nicer natured of the two and would be more manageable when they got big.  Cricket was slated for homekill in four months time. 

Cricket started biting.  It wasn’t vicious, it was more like puppy type behaviour.  I was cleaning up the poo out of their run and he kept nudging me with his nose.  What you doing? Play with me. I’d give him a scratch and carry on, so he bit me on the elbow.  That was blindingly painful, he got me right on the bones that stick out when your elbow is bent.  He bit Miss Fifteen when she was feeding them.  I banned Miss Six from the pigpen.  While he didn’t seem to be nasty, it would still be potentially nasty for her.  If he bit a finger or hand, she’d probably lose it.

In the way of small children, she didn’t listen and got a nasty bite on the thigh. 

I found a Kune Kune sow that was about 3 months old for $50.  Miss Fifteen who had decided the pigs were hers, named her Darla after her boyfriend’s mother (long story).  Darla is a lovely black and white with the tassels that apparently mark her as pure Kune.

We all became a bit afraid of Cricket.  I stopped feeding them in their trough and would just dump the bucket of scraps over the fence.  I would wait until they were eating to sneak around and top up their water every second or third day.

Cricket

One day, I noticed while I was feeding them, that Para hadn’t come running when I called.  I fed the other two and went looking for him.  He was dead in their little house.  Completely cold.  When Hubby came home, he buried him for us.  We weren’t sure why he had died, Hubby said there wasn’t a mark on him but he did notice yellow froth dried around his mouth.  That suggested poisoning to me.  But poisoned by what?

I had a close look around their run and spotted something I hadn’t seen before.  A three foot high Elder tree that had sprung up hidden in the macrocarpa hedge.  With elderberries on it.  Well, they’d do it.  The berries are poisonous until cooked or brewed.

It seemed for all our best laid plans, we might have to keep Cricket if we wanted to breed.  He was certainly trying to do the business, but Darla didn’t seem to be having any of that, not that we saw anyway - she’d lie down when he tried to cover her.

Cricket with Darla when we first got her.

I spent a week picking grapes at a local vineyard and met a local guy who also had pigs.  He wanted an unrelated boar for his sows and we discussed doing a boar swap - that suited me, Cricket was getting to be quite nasty.  I just had to wait for his piglets to get big enough to be weaned.  Another delay, but the results would be worth it.

Then I was feeding the pigs one day and Cricket attacked Darla.  He bit her on the back of her head.  She staggered away, sat down and had a seizure.  I thought I was watching my lovely little sow die.  I rang Hubby in tears.  Then I rang the homekill guy.  He was probably not going to be able to make it for about a week.  I knew that was probably the best I’d get and resolved to try and separate them.

That was a lesson in frustration.  Three hours and I couldn’t get them apart to move her elsewhere.  She was terrified of us all for some reason and when they weren’t eating Cricket was very nice to her.  We were all afraid of him too which didn’t help.

Since the weather was still warm, I stopped feeding them.  There was plenty of grass and he didn’t attack her over grass.  I beat myself up a lot over the whole thing.

The homekill guy rang the next day, he was able to come and do it tomorrow afternoon now, was this okay?  Was it okay?! It was fantastic.

When he was here, he watched Darla for a while.  “She’s blind as a bat mate, should I take her too?”  I watched her run into a fence and saw what he meant.  “Give me a week or so and let me see if she comes right.”  He was dubious but let it pass.

It was heartbreaking.  My sweet natured little sow was terrified of me and of everything.  She’d run into things as she was running away from me.  I wondered if I’d done the right thing.  Within two days however, she was mostly back to herself.  As the swelling went down, her sight returned and she’s back to the sweet pig that I bought months ago.

I waited for four months to see if she was pregnant, but that came and went with no additions to the pig run.  I’ll have to get a boar in for her.  I’ve been advised that Cricket’s behaviour was quite normal, that this is what happens when you keep boars and sows together.  I’ll get another sow for company for her though.

As for Cricket, well, it was nice to take a bite out of him for a change.