Piglets

We knew Darla was close to having her piglets.  I worked out the dates from when we saw George on her and came up with Saturday.

Thursday night piglet pile

On Thursday night, Miss Seven came to me and said she thought she'd heard piglet noises coming from their little house while all three pigs were out in the paddock.  I fed the pigs and went and had a look.  She was right.  There was a pile of little piglets in there.  It was nearly dark and hard to see them or count how many there were.

The next morning, we went out to feed the pigs and see if we could see the piglets more clearly.  As Darla got up, she rolled on one of her babies which was heartbreaking, but something I'd been warned about.

Friday morning piglets

My parents came out for a visit that morning.  We went out to see the piglets and I noticed that Darla wasn't in with them and I didn't think she had been all morning.  Two of the piglets seemed very weak, so we rescued them. 

I had seven piglets in a fish crate lined with a woolen blanket and a hot water bottle in there too.  The two weak piglets were very cold, so we wrapped them in towels and cuddled them to try and warm them up.

I left my parents with the piglets while I rushed into town to get some milk powder and a feeding bottle for them.  The vet told me there's a brand that is good for many animals including pigs and to use a lamb bottle.

By the time I got back home, we'd lost the two weak ones and were down to five.  These five didn't seem to be hungry, just cold.  When they did feed, the bottle was too much for them, they weren't up to sucking from a bottle just yet, it required a syringe to drip it into their mouths. 

After four hours, Darla didn't seem to have even noticed that they'd gone.  She showed no signs of looking for her babies, she just carried on with a normal day for her.

Hubby and I were going away for the weekend, a trip we'd had planned for over a month and not one we could cancel easily, but a very good friend was coming out for the weekend to babysit Miss Seven and look after my animals.  We couldn't have picked a better time to be honest.  This friend grew up on a pig farm.  She didn't mind nursing five one day old piglets and had a better idea than I did about how to do it all.

My friend's grandson patting Streaky

We got back on Sunday just after Miss Seven's chosen favourite had died.  They'd lost one other that morning and one more was not looking like he was going to last for long.  The chosen favourite was the only white/pink piglet out of the litter and after watching Charlotte's Web a few times, she wanted a Wilbur.  The problem with Wilbur was that he only walked around in circles.  I'm told it's a sign of fluid on the brain.  Miss Seven was feeding him and he had a seizure quite unexpectedly and then went limp.  My friend realised that he'd gone, but didn't say anything.  After about five minutes, Miss Seven said to her "I think Wilbur has died".  She was really quite philosophical about it and helped her Dad to dig the hole to bury the five piglets we'd lost so far.

That night, the one we didn't really expect to last died too.  He'd had a funny hitch to his breathing and we had to wake him up to make him feed.  This time, we couldn't wake him up, he'd already gone.

So we're down to the last two and they're tough wee fellas (yes, all of the last five were boys and we never checked the sex of the first three we lost).  They're living in my bath (it didn't take long for them to be climbing out of the fish crate for all they're smaller than guinea pigs), lined with woolen furniture moving pads, hot water bottles, towels and with a bar heater going in the room.

Three little piglets, snuggled in the nest in the bath

They're both doing well and have got the hang of the bottles.  My friend gave us one of her grandson's bottles that he didn't need anymore, so Miss Seven and I feed them together.  My bathroom smells like pig and old milk and milky piglet poo, it's okay, last night they slept through the night.  I even refilled and replaced their hot water bottles without them waking up this morning.

Darla doesn't seem to be missing them.  It's a little sad, but I'm glad that I found them when I did.  I know some pigs are just bad mothers and that may be why, although I'm also wondering if she's suffered some brain damage from the seizures she had when Cricket was beating her up.  She was blind for most of a week afterwards.

George has been on her again already.  While we were taking her babies in fact.  I'll see how she goes with another litter and this time, I'll try a farrowing pen, or at least a separate pen for her with a creep rail to keep the piglets safe under a heatlamp.

Autumn Has Come

Our long summer seems to finally have ended.  Most of my harvest is done along with the bulk of the preserving that needed doing with it.

I have sauces, relishes, jams, puree and pastes to last for most of the year ahead.
I have several desserts made and frozen for occasions when I feel like them.
I have cordials and wine for health and enjoyment.
I have enough potatoes to last for many months.
I have winter veges planted, both for our food and for my animals.

Darla is due to have piglets any day now (doing the maths).  She's looking heavily pregnant and her movement is getting slower - well, except at feeding time, she's still the first to meet me when I go out with the pig bucket.

In the next few weeks, the first of my cattle is going to become dinner.  Not the one I'd thought though.  Sirloyne was apparently not castrated in the normal fashion.  He's a short scrotum bull instead of a steer.  Research tells me this makes them infertile and more manageable than a bull, but that they grow more like a bull.  The problem is that he's unruly and I feel unsafe in a paddock with him.  As I do all of my work with them on foot and usually alone, if I don't feel safe, then I can't be in a paddock with him - and I have jumped a fence and walked back to the house along the road while he was running amok all along the fenceline following me.  When the steers get out of their patch (again - too many electric fence issues) he tries to fight with them through a fence.  All still have horns, and I'm starting to worry that they'll damage each other or pull a fence down and then do some serious damage to each other.  So while he's only 14 months old and not really big enough that you'd normally consider calling out the home kill chaps, he's too dangerous for me to keep.

Things I've learned over the last few months

It doesn't pay to make any assumptions.  We learned that a tree that features several times in our garden is in fact quite toxic to the cattle.  It's on the fence line between garden and paddock and all the cattle that have been in that paddock have leaned over the fence and through holes in the windbreak to eat it.  Several developed a cough which has gone since I ran a hotwire along that fenceline preventing them reaching it.

I had assumed that previous owners would have had more clues than I did.  I assumed that since this plant was where it was, then it would have been safe for my animals.  Why would anyone plant a toxic shrub where animals can reach it?  I'm just lucky that I didn't lose any of my cattle to it.  Photinia Red Robin converts to Hydrogen Cyanide and is extremely damaging to ruminants.

Do your preserving straight away.  The sheer volume of blackberries I was picking became overwhelming.  I had days when I was so sick of the sight of them that I wouldn't touch them for a day or two, in which time they started to go mouldy.  I hated giving them to the pigs when I was still pulling their thorns out of my fingertips.

Some friends are worth their weight in gold. I had been worrying a little about winter feed for my animals.  Our hot summer meant that much of the grass died and wasn't growing to the extent that it would last through winter.  A friend called and offered me hay for free - initially it was last years hay that the neighbour was going to dump because his sheep wouldn't eat it, but then it turned into this years hay that had just been cut.  I cannot express my gratitude adequately for the gift of 6 tonnes (8 large round bales) of hay that is currently sitting in my front paddock!

Don't give up on carrots when they appear to have died off.  My carrots growing in the bathtub have had some irrigation issues and it seemed they'd all died.  The leaves had browned off and started to come away.  I was leaving them for the ones in flower to seed and save me buying more.  Then we got rain.  Suddenly, my "dead" carrots have sprung back to life.  They've got new greenery, have lost the bitter taste and are growing bigger again.  The same goes for red onions. which have done it too!