A while back, I answered an ad on social media offering some coloured ewe lambs. They were Romney Merino cross with Merino fleece. Then her husband changed his mind and wanted to keep them.
Recently, she got in touch with me again, to see if I was still keen for two now hogget ewes. The brown one, she said, had Merino fleece but she thought the motley one had Romney fleece.
I went and had a look at them. The brown one is only brown on the outside. Once you got past the tips, her fleece was black. Right down to the skin. It was glorious. Then I looked at the other ewe. She's kind of off-white with brown legs. She also has Merino fleece. I took them both.
Then she contacted me last week. Did I want her ram? He's the father of the two I've got, but since I have another ram, that's manageable. They are having to move unexpectedly and rather quickly. The price was extremely reasonable, so I said yes.
Then a few days later, she contacted me again. Did I want a ewe with her two lambs for free?
We were planning to reduce our numbers after having so many feed issues last year. Well, there are a few more that we could probably cull out and if it means improving the wool I'm getting, then it's worth it.
They were going to be shorn and drenched over the weekend, ready for me to pick them up the following weekend. Did I also want the fleece?
We've not long had our sheep shorn, I've got three full fadges of fleece waiting for me to wash, spin and process. How much more could I deal with? Hubby was rolling his eyes at me and pointing out how much space I've gained recently by having a clean out and how much I would be losing by taking this.
I asked how many sheep we were talking about. Eight. Eight I can do. Eight is easy. If we're being totally honest, I was given some Merino to spin recently and immediately fell in love with it. It's been hard going back to my Texel fleece, it feels so coarse. I was dying to get some more. Yes please I'll take it.
After the weekend, I got another message. The ram broke out of the enclosure before the shearer got to him and they couldn't get him back in. The shearer is coming back to get him shorn before we pick him up. Oh and by the way, there are ten ewes, not eight, don't ask how they got miscounted, did I want another two for free?
So, for about what you'd pay for a lamb, I'm getting 3 ewes, 2 lambs, a ram and a heap of good fleeces.
Showing posts with label livestock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label livestock. Show all posts
Thursday, 5 December 2019
Thursday, 11 July 2019
Another Mild Winter So Far, Sheep and Parasites
Here we are, approaching the middle of Winter and it's lovely out. We've had maybe a handful of frosts so far, instead of the usual two months of nearly every day. The grass almost seems to be starting it's Spring Flush.
As a Summer lover, I should be happy about this. I much prefer the heat to the cold. But I'm not happy. This has caused me issues and worries me about the next month or so.
Many plants that I like to grow need a good freeze every year.
The volumes of parasites and vermin are usually lowered when we've had a proper cold Winter.
Last week, half my sheep went down scouring. I had to physically pick them up off the ground where they'd become cast, my old ram took four or five attempts before he could take more than one step and collapse again. Several had become quite skinny, with spines and hips showing through their thick Winter fleece.
My Wonderful Neighbour recommended opening up the gully for them, as there was plenty of good grass in there and if they've got good grass in the open, they should be less likely to get stuck in the blackberry. Give them some hay right now, it will bind them up a bit. He also recommended drenching with a double dose for the scouring ones.
I went out with a bale of hay and split it between my two flocks. That's when I found Lenny. I thought he was dead. He was down, scouring and the magpies had been pecking at his eye. I got him at least on his belly, instead of his side and surrounded him with hay.
I went to our farm supplies store and had a lovely long chat with the lady there. She recommended pouring pineapple juice into Lenny. They love the taste and it's filled with sugar. That should give him some energy to be getting up and about. Give them sheep nuts too. And this drench is good, it also contains a dose of minerals, don't double dose any of them. Leave Lenny until tomorrow.
The general consensus is parasite numbers have gotten very bad as a result of our third mild Winter in a row. Usually a few decent frosts will kill off 95% of the worm eggs and larvae in the grass. The lady at the farm supplies store also said there seems to be a new worm around. Bigger farms than mine with far more experienced farmers have been having issues with their sheep suddenly going down. Enough for them to call vets in.
I also got Cider Vinegar to go in their water troughs. I have used it for years without any problems, mostly because until a year ago, I didn't have yards to contain and drench my animals. The vinegar kills most parasites and the parasites don't become resistant to it. I hadn't dosed the water troughs in months though, partly because I'd run out and forgotten that I'd run out and partly because I'd just spent six weeks not allowed to lift a finger for myself (recovering from surgery) and so most of the little things I would normally see and do had started to slip. Hubby did a wonderful job milking the cow and feeding the chickens, but he doesn't have the habit of looking out into the paddocks as he's doing the chores and he doesn't stop and do a head count of the sheep when he can see them.
I poured pineapple juice down Lenny, I gave him sheep nuts. I went back to check on him frequently and eventually got him up and moving. It was slow and painful, but I was able to get him under cover on a bed of hay and with a handful of sheep nuts to munch on.
The next day I went out to drench them. I found one of my wethers down and scouring. I drenched him while I was picking him up. He bounced back rather quickly. I worked my way through the rest of my animals, although I couldn't get one of my ewes into the yards. She wouldn't follow the rest of her flock, she ran into the old turkey shed in the next paddock (we were running them through this one to get to the yards) instead. Since the shed has a narrow doorway, Hubby went into the shed to try to catch her and I blocked the doorway. She ran full force, grumpy, stroppy force, into my kneecap. I still have a nasty bruise. I managed to pin her against the side and drench her there though. I had to pick a couple of the hoggets up, but they kept going once they were up.
Lenny was up and about. He seemed to spend the day going from the water trough to the bin of sheep nuts and back again.
I spent a couple of hours reading up on parasites and learning about their life cycles, which animals are more prone to them and under what conditions. There's a wonderful resource available as a pdf that you can find here. It gives you more information than you probably ever wanted to know, but much of it is very useful to someone like me.
The next morning, Lenny was down again and not able to get up. I tried picking him up, but he couldn't quite get his feet under him. The wounded eye was weeping. He'd stopped scouring and seemed a little bloated. I poured more pineapple juice down him. He seemed quite keen for it, although his tummy was making some alarming noises after he'd finished.
After I'd finished the pineapple juice, I went back every few hours to give him some electrolytes. I thought they'd give him the nutrition he needed while allowing whatever was bothering his stomachs to pass. The last time I went out, late in the day, he'd gone.
I've become pretty good at not taking livestock deaths personally, but I cried. I'd just fought for three days to keep him alive and I failed. I'd only had Lenny for a few months, he came to us as a fat pet hogget and we lost him.
I've had a few conversations with people who know more about sheep than I do (nearly everyone who has sheep) and there have been a few suggestions floated. One is that my sheep are mostly immune to whatever bugs we have here and he wasn't. It affected him the most because he'd come in from elsewhere. Another is that he brought the new bug with him. Another is shit happens, if you have live stock, you have dead stock and you can't win them all.
Sigh. I just hope that we have his offspring brewing in the girls he'd been running with.
Now. I'm going to take you back in time by a week. Yes, I know this is out of order, but bear with me.
The week before, I was out trying my hand at doing my animal chores with help and supervision (mostly in the form of "don't lift that") from Hubby. I glanced out over our paddocks as is my habit and asked, "Is that a dead sheep?"
We went for a walk and found Molly, one of my older ewes. She was alive, but on her side and the hawks had been attacking her face. She showed no signs of scouring. I tried to get her on her feet. I failed. I turned her around at least so her head was uphill. Her gums were white which isn't a good sign. She was skinny but not scouring. I tried to tempt her with handfuls of fresh grass and electrolytes, but we lost her. It's been suggested that she might have had a heart condition or something - the lack of scouring removes many diseases from the probable cause of death list.
I moved the other sheep from her paddock, and in doing so found an abandoned lamb. Two of my ewes showed signs of having lambed, Nibbles had a healthy fat white lamb running around her and Peg had blood down her back legs and tail. Nibbles' lamb looked to be a couple of days old and this one was brand new, bright fresh navel string and all. I picked it up and took it over to the sheep, it bounced around crying and tried to feed off most of them. They all either ran away or beat him up.
I took him up to the house and made up a bottle. I thought maybe give him a good feed and then take him back and see if Mum will take him then. I was fairly sure he was Peg's, but she had hardly any udder and was looking a little rough too. Each time I took him near the sheep, they'd run away or knock him over. And then he'd follow me around head-butting my legs and tripping me up. I gained a pet lamb.
My darling granddaughter Miss Two named him Coco and he's still doing fine. He outgrew the box in the lounge rather quickly and had to move out to the pen in the milking shed - hastily cleaned up to remove the last of the pig poo and a bed of hay laid down. So to cheer up a hard post to make, here are some pictures of Coco. This is why he came at the end.
As a Summer lover, I should be happy about this. I much prefer the heat to the cold. But I'm not happy. This has caused me issues and worries me about the next month or so.
Many plants that I like to grow need a good freeze every year.
The volumes of parasites and vermin are usually lowered when we've had a proper cold Winter.
Last week, half my sheep went down scouring. I had to physically pick them up off the ground where they'd become cast, my old ram took four or five attempts before he could take more than one step and collapse again. Several had become quite skinny, with spines and hips showing through their thick Winter fleece.
My Wonderful Neighbour recommended opening up the gully for them, as there was plenty of good grass in there and if they've got good grass in the open, they should be less likely to get stuck in the blackberry. Give them some hay right now, it will bind them up a bit. He also recommended drenching with a double dose for the scouring ones.
I went out with a bale of hay and split it between my two flocks. That's when I found Lenny. I thought he was dead. He was down, scouring and the magpies had been pecking at his eye. I got him at least on his belly, instead of his side and surrounded him with hay.
I went to our farm supplies store and had a lovely long chat with the lady there. She recommended pouring pineapple juice into Lenny. They love the taste and it's filled with sugar. That should give him some energy to be getting up and about. Give them sheep nuts too. And this drench is good, it also contains a dose of minerals, don't double dose any of them. Leave Lenny until tomorrow.
The general consensus is parasite numbers have gotten very bad as a result of our third mild Winter in a row. Usually a few decent frosts will kill off 95% of the worm eggs and larvae in the grass. The lady at the farm supplies store also said there seems to be a new worm around. Bigger farms than mine with far more experienced farmers have been having issues with their sheep suddenly going down. Enough for them to call vets in.
I also got Cider Vinegar to go in their water troughs. I have used it for years without any problems, mostly because until a year ago, I didn't have yards to contain and drench my animals. The vinegar kills most parasites and the parasites don't become resistant to it. I hadn't dosed the water troughs in months though, partly because I'd run out and forgotten that I'd run out and partly because I'd just spent six weeks not allowed to lift a finger for myself (recovering from surgery) and so most of the little things I would normally see and do had started to slip. Hubby did a wonderful job milking the cow and feeding the chickens, but he doesn't have the habit of looking out into the paddocks as he's doing the chores and he doesn't stop and do a head count of the sheep when he can see them.
I poured pineapple juice down Lenny, I gave him sheep nuts. I went back to check on him frequently and eventually got him up and moving. It was slow and painful, but I was able to get him under cover on a bed of hay and with a handful of sheep nuts to munch on.
The next day I went out to drench them. I found one of my wethers down and scouring. I drenched him while I was picking him up. He bounced back rather quickly. I worked my way through the rest of my animals, although I couldn't get one of my ewes into the yards. She wouldn't follow the rest of her flock, she ran into the old turkey shed in the next paddock (we were running them through this one to get to the yards) instead. Since the shed has a narrow doorway, Hubby went into the shed to try to catch her and I blocked the doorway. She ran full force, grumpy, stroppy force, into my kneecap. I still have a nasty bruise. I managed to pin her against the side and drench her there though. I had to pick a couple of the hoggets up, but they kept going once they were up.
Lenny was up and about. He seemed to spend the day going from the water trough to the bin of sheep nuts and back again.
I spent a couple of hours reading up on parasites and learning about their life cycles, which animals are more prone to them and under what conditions. There's a wonderful resource available as a pdf that you can find here. It gives you more information than you probably ever wanted to know, but much of it is very useful to someone like me.
The next morning, Lenny was down again and not able to get up. I tried picking him up, but he couldn't quite get his feet under him. The wounded eye was weeping. He'd stopped scouring and seemed a little bloated. I poured more pineapple juice down him. He seemed quite keen for it, although his tummy was making some alarming noises after he'd finished.
After I'd finished the pineapple juice, I went back every few hours to give him some electrolytes. I thought they'd give him the nutrition he needed while allowing whatever was bothering his stomachs to pass. The last time I went out, late in the day, he'd gone.
I've become pretty good at not taking livestock deaths personally, but I cried. I'd just fought for three days to keep him alive and I failed. I'd only had Lenny for a few months, he came to us as a fat pet hogget and we lost him.
I've had a few conversations with people who know more about sheep than I do (nearly everyone who has sheep) and there have been a few suggestions floated. One is that my sheep are mostly immune to whatever bugs we have here and he wasn't. It affected him the most because he'd come in from elsewhere. Another is that he brought the new bug with him. Another is shit happens, if you have live stock, you have dead stock and you can't win them all.
Sigh. I just hope that we have his offspring brewing in the girls he'd been running with.
Now. I'm going to take you back in time by a week. Yes, I know this is out of order, but bear with me.
The week before, I was out trying my hand at doing my animal chores with help and supervision (mostly in the form of "don't lift that") from Hubby. I glanced out over our paddocks as is my habit and asked, "Is that a dead sheep?"
We went for a walk and found Molly, one of my older ewes. She was alive, but on her side and the hawks had been attacking her face. She showed no signs of scouring. I tried to get her on her feet. I failed. I turned her around at least so her head was uphill. Her gums were white which isn't a good sign. She was skinny but not scouring. I tried to tempt her with handfuls of fresh grass and electrolytes, but we lost her. It's been suggested that she might have had a heart condition or something - the lack of scouring removes many diseases from the probable cause of death list.
I moved the other sheep from her paddock, and in doing so found an abandoned lamb. Two of my ewes showed signs of having lambed, Nibbles had a healthy fat white lamb running around her and Peg had blood down her back legs and tail. Nibbles' lamb looked to be a couple of days old and this one was brand new, bright fresh navel string and all. I picked it up and took it over to the sheep, it bounced around crying and tried to feed off most of them. They all either ran away or beat him up.
I took him up to the house and made up a bottle. I thought maybe give him a good feed and then take him back and see if Mum will take him then. I was fairly sure he was Peg's, but she had hardly any udder and was looking a little rough too. Each time I took him near the sheep, they'd run away or knock him over. And then he'd follow me around head-butting my legs and tripping me up. I gained a pet lamb.
My darling granddaughter Miss Two named him Coco and he's still doing fine. He outgrew the box in the lounge rather quickly and had to move out to the pen in the milking shed - hastily cleaned up to remove the last of the pig poo and a bed of hay laid down. So to cheer up a hard post to make, here are some pictures of Coco. This is why he came at the end.
 |
| Two days old, exploring the lawn and garden. |
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| At about a week old, in the shed. |
Wednesday, 29 May 2019
Meet Lenny
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| Lenny |
For the past year, I have been thinking about the situation with my sheep. Ramuel Jackson is now the sire of half of my ewes. Opinions differ on whether inbreeding fathers over daughters is okay. It seems to be a standard practice in some areas, or ignored until lambs start showing deficiencies.
I have issues with this. I personally find such inbreeding distasteful and try to avoid it. I know that the sheep probably don't care, it's my issue.
The first and obvious solution is to get a new ram.
But what to do with Ramuel Jackson? I could try to sell him, but I can't give many details at all about him. I don't know his age. I don't know his breed for certain, the best I can do is go by my shearer's guess that he's a Romney. And not that many people are interested in a coloured ram. I'm too much of a soft touch to have him slaughtered for dog food.
It had occurred to me to split my flock. Ramuel could continue to service my older ewes. They're all white and not related to him. While his daughters could run with a new ram. This would mean the new ram's flock would continue to grow every year but I would have to find another solution for the new ram's daughters as they'd be Ramuel's granddaughters.
I have dithered, undecided for far too long.
Then recently I saw a post on facebook offering two young rams for sale. They're two out of a set of triplets, purebred Suffolk and fine looking boys. I did some quick research about the Suffolk breed. Good hardy sheep, mostly meat producers and their wool is approximately mid-range for fineness, rating better than Romney. I enquired, we chatted and a week later, Lenny arrived.
Lenny is friendly and has been almost a pet. His previous owner was a little sad to see him go, although she accepted that she couldn't keep him. Both he and his brother Benny had been showing interest in their ewes, all of which they were related to.
I think she felt a little hurt at how he ran to the fence, calling to the ewes in another paddock and wouldn't come back to say goodbye, but at the same time I think she was relieved to see him so happy to meet some new sheep.
We hadn't split our flock before his arrival. So while we kept Lenny in the paddock he arrived in, we ran the others through our new yards. We also separated last years wethers from the others to make it easier when we call the homekill man in.
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| Lenny and his girls |
We're looking forward to seeing what kind of offspring we get this year from Lenny.
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| Lenny and Beyonce |
Friday, 15 February 2019
Activism and Contempt
One of my friends is an Animal Rights Activist. She's vegetarian but doesn't judge everyone else's diets. She has a kind heart and beautiful soul. She has volunteered for various organisations that fight for animal rights. Recently she shared a post by SAFE.
So I followed the link and read the information on SAFE's website. I am still horrified by what I read. Not because it highlighted cruelty. Not even remotely. Because it was packed full of lies, half-truths and easily discredited opinion.
I freely admit that I have issues with SAFE. I have had conversations with their volunteers, conversations where I found their propoganda was filled with errors and lies. At the time, I was working at an egg farm. Part of my job included studying the animal welfare codes and legislation, dealing with MPI audits and ensuring that our farm was up to the standards and codes of practice required by law.
SAFE were campaigning against colony cages. Out of curiosity, I went to see what they were saying. The volunteer told me that it was all a con. Colony cages were bigger, but there would be more birds in them so they ended up with less individual space than battery cages. I knew this to be false. Battery cages required birds to have 0.5 sqm per bird, colony cages required birds to have 0.75 sqm per bird. This is monitored by MPI in two separate audits each year (if you have a high standard of compliance, more often if you don't), one of these audits is booked in advance and one is unannounced. There is no opportunity to rearrange the birds or hide what you might have been doing. Even if you could, where would you hide the thousands of birds you'd need to be shifting?
He talked about how the birds were pumped full of growth hormone. I asked if he was sure, he said, "Oh, I mean meat birds, they're the ones full of growth hormones." I told him that growth hormones had been illegal in poultry in NZ for over 30 years. He looked stunned and didn't know what to say. I couldn't decide if he was shocked that I knew enough to refute his propoganda or if he was shocked to learn that he'd been given false information.
We live in an age where information; correct, factual information is easily accessible. Right from your comfy chair in your living room, you have access to the details of political campaign promises from two and six years ago. You have access to the documents submitted to the Government by the independent organisations who oversee animal welfare. This includes their recommendations and reasoning. You have access to the reports and recommendations from national Veterinary associations. Less than five minutes searching on Google and you can have all of those documents right in front of you.
So why aren't we fact-checking?
These documents are not written in difficult to understand jargon. It's not as though they're beyond the reading comprehension of the average person. They're in plain English. They're accessible.
We have people getting up in arms and angry about the abuses they're reading about. Which is understandable. People are getting wound up about the broken promises and ignored recommendations from Vets and welfare bodies. That's also understandable and commendable even.
But when all that anger is directed at lies, what should happen then?
How does an organisation like SAFE get away with lying to everyone? How much contempt must they have for their own volunteers and the general public to assume (albeit correctly it would seem) that they're just going to believe whatever they're told if there's enough outrage attached.
Below is the story according to SAFE:
Now let's break that down shall we.
Mother pigs are confined for over three months each year. They are confined in mating stalls for up to seven days during early pregnancy. They are confined again in farrowing crates for up to five weeks, just before they give birth until their babies are weaned.
This is a mix of lies and implications and half-truths.
A dry sow or gilt can be confined in a mating stall for up to seven days. This will not be during early pregnancy. This is for mating, (you know, how they become pregnant - if they're already pregnant, mating wouldn't happen) when they're in season to prevent fighting between sows. A mating stall must (by law) be big enough for them to get up, lie down, turn around and have separate space for toileting, eating and drinking. Artificial insemination is also the most common method for breeding in NZ which would make most of this week unnecessary and therefore unused.
They can go into a farrowing crate a maximum of five days before farrowing until a maximum of four weeks after. So while up to five weeks is accurate, the bold first line implies that five weeks is standard, not the maximum. Most keep their sows in the crates for no more than ten days after farrowing, making it two weeks rather than five. The exceptions are when there are health issues or fostering of piglets that requires human intervention, for the safety of all concerned.
The first line says "Mother pigs are confined for over three months each year." Normally, they only have two litters each year. This makes it a maximum of 12 weeks a year (which is just short of 3 months) that they can be confined, not that they are confined.
So let's fix that and make it more honest and truthful.
Mother pigs can be confined for up to three months each year. The aggressive ones might be confined in mating stalls for up to seven days to mate. They might be confined again in farrowing crates for up to five weeks, just before they give birth until their babies are weaned.
Next bit:
They can’t take more than a step backwards or forwards, and can’t turn around. Expressing natural behaviours like nest building, foraging, or interacting with their piglets and other pigs are impossible.
This implies that the mating stall is the same size as a farrowing crate, which isn't true, as stated above.
The minimum standards in the Code of Welfare practices states that at no time should the sow be able to touch both sides, or both ends simultaneously. She must be able to stand and lie down comfortably at full length without leg restriction.
"Expressing natural behaviours" is a misleading phrase. From the Pork Industry Submission to the Primary Production Select Committee:
Animal behaviour is an important component and valuable indicator that contributes to an integrated assessment of animal welfare status. In the current pig welfare code, Minimum Standard No. 9(a) requires that pigs be managed in a manner that provides sufficient opportunities to express and satisfy their normal behaviours (NAWAC, 2010). These include, but are not limited to, feeding, drinking, sleeping, excreting, vocalising, thermoregulation, and social behaviours.
Conversely, natural behaviour describes most elements of species-specific normal behaviour, but is performed in the context of natural conditions (e.g. allogrooming, pacing a territory, fleeing a predator). Natural behaviour is performed because it is pleasurable and promotes biological functioning in a wild or natural setting in the environment of evolutionary adaptation (i.e., the environment in which the animal evolved) (Bracke and Hopster, 2006). However, natural behaviour is never fully hard-wired; and always includes an element of plasticity or flexibility depending on the context and situation (Spinka, 2006). It follows that behaviour which is natural in one situation, or towards one object, may be unnatural in other situations or towards another object (Spinka, 2006). The assumption is often that animals living in a wild or natural state are all in good condition and experience good welfare (Volpato et al., 2009). Thus, the implication is that animals that can perform natural behaviour are therefore in a good state of welfare, which may not be the case. The issue of accommodating an animal’s normal behaviour is often raised in the context of achieving positive welfare outcomes. As acknowledged in the Animal Welfare (Pigs) Code of Welfare, some normal behavioural traits of pigs (such as dominance-related aggression and fighting in social groups, and feed-related aggression) need to be managed carefully in order to minimise or prevent negative consequences for welfare (NAWAC, 2010). Furthermore, and perhaps most significantly, what is considered normal behaviour of domesticated livestock is the result of their adaptation to an agricultural environment, including regular interactions with humans (Segerdahl, 2007). The behaviour of domesticated livestock, as observed in farm housing systems, may vary in many ways from the behaviour of the same species in a natural environment. However, it is not reasonable to assume that these differences in behaviour equate to poor animal welfare (Wechsler, 2007). Thus, natural behaviours of wild boar may not always be considered normal for domesticated pigs, and we need to meet the needs of domesticated farm animals that have evolved in the presence of humans, not those in the wild.
For the tl;dr folks, this is pointing out that natural behaviours are not the same as normal behaviours. What is natural to wild pigs is not necessarily natural to domesticated pigs and it is not reasonable to assume that the difference results in poor animal welfare. Positive traits in the wild (specifically dominance-related aggression and feed-related aggression) are not positive traits for the welfare of domestic pigs.
The Code of Welfare states that sows in all farrowing systems must have manipulable material before farrowing - that is straw most commonly and it is there to allow the sow to build a nest.
They have free access to food at all times, removing the need to forage. They only forage when they're hungry and don't have food freely available.
The piglets come and go freely. In the first few weeks, piglets nurse hourly and sleep a lot. Normal interaction with their mother consists of feeding and sleeping it off. That is completely available in a farrowing crate. The sows are also exhausted by the demands of their piglets and spend most of their time eating, feeding their piglets and sleeping.
Interactions with other pigs isn't normal or natural behaviour until the piglets are weaned. This being impossible is not a problem for sows.
So shall we fix this one too?
While they are confined, they must still have enough space to stand and lie comfortably at full length without leg restriction. Expressing natural behaviours like nest building is possible and provided for, foraging is unnecessary as there is plenty of food provided, interacting with their piglets happens just like normal and interacting with other pigs isn't normal or natural behaviour after farrowing.
Next paragraph.
Pigs are intelligent, sensitive animals that show obvious signs of distress, their heart rate becomes elevated and they may bite the bars of the crates.
This is vague opinion and an appeal to emotion. It implies that you would have to be heartless to approve of this. This is like all those facebook guilt trip posts that tell you only people with a heart will like and share.
Next paragraph.
The Government’s own advisors, the National Animal Welfare Committee (NAWAC) had previously advised the Government that farrowing crates do not meet the requirements of the Animal Welfare Act. Both the Labour Party and the Green Party committed to banning farrowing crates prior to the election. More than 112,000 caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
From the Code of Welfare:
Note: Before the Animal Welfare Act was amended in 2015, Section 73(3) of the Animal Welfare Act 1999 provided that the National Animal Welfare Advisory Committee (NAWAC) may, in exceptional circumstances, recommend minimum standards that do not fully meet the obligations to ensure that the physical, health and behavioural needs of the animal are met. In making this recommendation NAWAC must have regard to, among other things, the feasibility and practicality of effecting a transition from current practices and any adverse effects that may result from such a transition, and the economic effects of any transition from current practices to new practices.
NAWAC considers that the confining of sows in farrowing crates for extended periods does not fully meet the obligations of the Act. Minimum Standards 10 (e) and (f) restrict the time sows are confined in farrowing crates to a maximum of five weeks in any reproductive cycle.
Simplified, before 2015 NAWAC could recommend minimum standards that didn't quite meet their obligations but only in special circumstances. For the amendment to the Act to be mentioned means that this loophole was closed, that they can no longer recommend minimum standards that don't meet those Welfare obligations. I believe that the second paragraph explains how the standards now do meet those obligations.
This statement now becomes kind of half true, although SAFEs statement is missing the words "for extended periods" which makes it misleading at best.
Both the Labour Party and the Green Party committed to banning farrowing crates prior to the election.
Now, I can find the Green Party's manifesto online easily enough including where they say they want to "reduce confinement of sows in farrowing crates". This is not the same thing as "committed to banning farrowing crates". However, I cannot find any sign of the Labour Party having any position whatsoever. In fact, all my google searches only showed up instances of SAFE claiming that Labour had made this promise and should be held to it.
More than 112,000 caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
"More than 112,000 caring Kiwis" gosh, that sounds somewhat impressive doesn't it? In a population of over 4 million this is maybe 2.5% of people in New Zealand. Not quite so impressive now is it? It is also not the 75% claimed in the article I linked to above. "Caring Kiwis like you" is another appeal to emotion, another guilt trip and more attempts at manipulation.
Shall we fix this one too?
The Government’s own advisors, the National Animal Welfare Committee (NAWAC) had previously advised the Government that the use of farrowing crates for extended periods do not meet the requirements of the Animal Welfare Act. This has now changed. The Green Party committed to reducing confinement in farrowing crates prior to the election. SAFE claims that Labour also promised to have them banned but this can't be verified anywhere. Approximately 2.5% of the population, caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
Next paragraph.
But your voices have been ignored - because the Government continues to allow the unlawful confinement of mother pigs in farrowing crates and mating stalls.
Oh dear, how sad. That tiny percent of the population should be the only voice that is listened to? This is more emotional manipulation. The big bad Government doesn't care about you, it's not listening to you and you are really important. You are the only ones who care. Do you see how you're being played?
As is shown in the Code of Welfare, there is nothing unlawful about the use of farrowing crates or mating stalls.
But your voices have been ignored - because the Government continues to follow the advice from the industry experts and independent advisors and allows the lawful confinement of mother pigs in farrowing crates and mating stalls.
Next paragraph.
The Government has failed to protect mother pigs and continues to put the interests of profits for farmers above the well-being of mother pigs. It’s not right and it contradicts the Animal Welfare Act.
The Government has not failed to protect mother pigs at all. The health and welfare of mother pigs must be balanced with the health and welfare of her piglets. NAWAC, the New Zealand Veterinary Association and the Pork Industry all agree that while this system isn't ideal, it is the most suitable one available that best meets the needs of sows, piglets and farmers.
Profits and well-being go together. It costs farmers to be neglectful or cruel to their animals. Stressed animals fail to thrive - which means they don't gain weight or breed easily and therefore don't make a profit - or they die. It has always been more profitable to ensure that your animals are well cared for. Don't fall for the hype.
As has been shown above, the Animal Welfare Act is not being contradicted at all.
So let's fix this paragraph.
The Government has balanced the health and welfare of mother pigs with the health and welfare of their piglets. It’s the best we currently have for all concerned and is completely in line with the Animal Welfare Act.
And the last part.
Because of their failure to act, mother pigs are suffering every day.
We need your help to ensure justice for mother pigs.
It’s time your voices are heard.
These are more appeals to emotion and to believe the lies stated above.
The Government has no need to act, because the current laws and practices are the best thing for all concerned. Sows, piglets and farmers. There is no justice required. Your voices refers to the fraction of a fraction of the populace who have signed the petition and it's ridiculous and arrogant to think you should be the only voices that matter.
Because of their failure to be moved by misleading propoganda, mother pigs and their piglets are thriving and mortality rates are low.
We need your help to interfere with things we don't really understand.
It’s time your voices are heard.
Shall we put it all back together again?
Mother pigs can be confined for up to three months each year. The aggressive ones might be confined in mating stalls for up to seven days to mate. They might be confined again in farrowing crates for up to five weeks, just before they give birth until their babies are weaned.
While they are confined, they must still have enough space to stand and lie comfortably at full length without leg restriction. Expressing natural behaviours like nest building is possible and provided for, foraging is unnecessary as there is plenty of food provided, interacting with their piglets happens just like normal and interacting with other pigs isn't normal or natural behaviour after farrowing.
Pigs are intelligent, sensitive animals that show obvious signs of distress, their heart rate becomes elevated and they may bite the bars of the crates.
The Government’s own advisors, the National Animal Welfare Committee (NAWAC) had previously advised the Government that the use of farrowing crates for extended periods do not meet the requirements of the Animal Welfare Act. This has now changed. The Green Party committed to reducing confinement in farrowing crates prior to the election. SAFE claims that Labour also promised to have them banned but this can't be verified anywhere. Approximately 2.5% of the population caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
But your voices have been ignored - because the Government continues to follow the advice from the industry experts and independent advisors and allows the lawful confinement of mother pigs in farrowing crates and mating stalls.
The Government has balanced the health and welfare of mother pigs with the health and welfare of their piglets. It’s the best we currently have for all concerned and is completely in line with the Animal Welfare Act.
Because of their failure to be moved by misleading propoganda, mother pigs and their piglets are thriving and mortality rates are low.
We need your help to interfere with things we don't really understand.
It’s time your voices are heard.
So I followed the link and read the information on SAFE's website. I am still horrified by what I read. Not because it highlighted cruelty. Not even remotely. Because it was packed full of lies, half-truths and easily discredited opinion.
I freely admit that I have issues with SAFE. I have had conversations with their volunteers, conversations where I found their propoganda was filled with errors and lies. At the time, I was working at an egg farm. Part of my job included studying the animal welfare codes and legislation, dealing with MPI audits and ensuring that our farm was up to the standards and codes of practice required by law.
SAFE were campaigning against colony cages. Out of curiosity, I went to see what they were saying. The volunteer told me that it was all a con. Colony cages were bigger, but there would be more birds in them so they ended up with less individual space than battery cages. I knew this to be false. Battery cages required birds to have 0.5 sqm per bird, colony cages required birds to have 0.75 sqm per bird. This is monitored by MPI in two separate audits each year (if you have a high standard of compliance, more often if you don't), one of these audits is booked in advance and one is unannounced. There is no opportunity to rearrange the birds or hide what you might have been doing. Even if you could, where would you hide the thousands of birds you'd need to be shifting?
He talked about how the birds were pumped full of growth hormone. I asked if he was sure, he said, "Oh, I mean meat birds, they're the ones full of growth hormones." I told him that growth hormones had been illegal in poultry in NZ for over 30 years. He looked stunned and didn't know what to say. I couldn't decide if he was shocked that I knew enough to refute his propoganda or if he was shocked to learn that he'd been given false information.
We live in an age where information; correct, factual information is easily accessible. Right from your comfy chair in your living room, you have access to the details of political campaign promises from two and six years ago. You have access to the documents submitted to the Government by the independent organisations who oversee animal welfare. This includes their recommendations and reasoning. You have access to the reports and recommendations from national Veterinary associations. Less than five minutes searching on Google and you can have all of those documents right in front of you.
So why aren't we fact-checking?
These documents are not written in difficult to understand jargon. It's not as though they're beyond the reading comprehension of the average person. They're in plain English. They're accessible.
We have people getting up in arms and angry about the abuses they're reading about. Which is understandable. People are getting wound up about the broken promises and ignored recommendations from Vets and welfare bodies. That's also understandable and commendable even.
But when all that anger is directed at lies, what should happen then?
How does an organisation like SAFE get away with lying to everyone? How much contempt must they have for their own volunteers and the general public to assume (albeit correctly it would seem) that they're just going to believe whatever they're told if there's enough outrage attached.
Below is the story according to SAFE:
Now let's break that down shall we.
Mother pigs are confined for over three months each year. They are confined in mating stalls for up to seven days during early pregnancy. They are confined again in farrowing crates for up to five weeks, just before they give birth until their babies are weaned.
This is a mix of lies and implications and half-truths.
A dry sow or gilt can be confined in a mating stall for up to seven days. This will not be during early pregnancy. This is for mating, (you know, how they become pregnant - if they're already pregnant, mating wouldn't happen) when they're in season to prevent fighting between sows. A mating stall must (by law) be big enough for them to get up, lie down, turn around and have separate space for toileting, eating and drinking. Artificial insemination is also the most common method for breeding in NZ which would make most of this week unnecessary and therefore unused.
They can go into a farrowing crate a maximum of five days before farrowing until a maximum of four weeks after. So while up to five weeks is accurate, the bold first line implies that five weeks is standard, not the maximum. Most keep their sows in the crates for no more than ten days after farrowing, making it two weeks rather than five. The exceptions are when there are health issues or fostering of piglets that requires human intervention, for the safety of all concerned.
The first line says "Mother pigs are confined for over three months each year." Normally, they only have two litters each year. This makes it a maximum of 12 weeks a year (which is just short of 3 months) that they can be confined, not that they are confined.
So let's fix that and make it more honest and truthful.
Mother pigs can be confined for up to three months each year. The aggressive ones might be confined in mating stalls for up to seven days to mate. They might be confined again in farrowing crates for up to five weeks, just before they give birth until their babies are weaned.
Next bit:
They can’t take more than a step backwards or forwards, and can’t turn around. Expressing natural behaviours like nest building, foraging, or interacting with their piglets and other pigs are impossible.
This implies that the mating stall is the same size as a farrowing crate, which isn't true, as stated above.
The minimum standards in the Code of Welfare practices states that at no time should the sow be able to touch both sides, or both ends simultaneously. She must be able to stand and lie down comfortably at full length without leg restriction.
"Expressing natural behaviours" is a misleading phrase. From the Pork Industry Submission to the Primary Production Select Committee:
Animal behaviour is an important component and valuable indicator that contributes to an integrated assessment of animal welfare status. In the current pig welfare code, Minimum Standard No. 9(a) requires that pigs be managed in a manner that provides sufficient opportunities to express and satisfy their normal behaviours (NAWAC, 2010). These include, but are not limited to, feeding, drinking, sleeping, excreting, vocalising, thermoregulation, and social behaviours.
Conversely, natural behaviour describes most elements of species-specific normal behaviour, but is performed in the context of natural conditions (e.g. allogrooming, pacing a territory, fleeing a predator). Natural behaviour is performed because it is pleasurable and promotes biological functioning in a wild or natural setting in the environment of evolutionary adaptation (i.e., the environment in which the animal evolved) (Bracke and Hopster, 2006). However, natural behaviour is never fully hard-wired; and always includes an element of plasticity or flexibility depending on the context and situation (Spinka, 2006). It follows that behaviour which is natural in one situation, or towards one object, may be unnatural in other situations or towards another object (Spinka, 2006). The assumption is often that animals living in a wild or natural state are all in good condition and experience good welfare (Volpato et al., 2009). Thus, the implication is that animals that can perform natural behaviour are therefore in a good state of welfare, which may not be the case. The issue of accommodating an animal’s normal behaviour is often raised in the context of achieving positive welfare outcomes. As acknowledged in the Animal Welfare (Pigs) Code of Welfare, some normal behavioural traits of pigs (such as dominance-related aggression and fighting in social groups, and feed-related aggression) need to be managed carefully in order to minimise or prevent negative consequences for welfare (NAWAC, 2010). Furthermore, and perhaps most significantly, what is considered normal behaviour of domesticated livestock is the result of their adaptation to an agricultural environment, including regular interactions with humans (Segerdahl, 2007). The behaviour of domesticated livestock, as observed in farm housing systems, may vary in many ways from the behaviour of the same species in a natural environment. However, it is not reasonable to assume that these differences in behaviour equate to poor animal welfare (Wechsler, 2007). Thus, natural behaviours of wild boar may not always be considered normal for domesticated pigs, and we need to meet the needs of domesticated farm animals that have evolved in the presence of humans, not those in the wild.
For the tl;dr folks, this is pointing out that natural behaviours are not the same as normal behaviours. What is natural to wild pigs is not necessarily natural to domesticated pigs and it is not reasonable to assume that the difference results in poor animal welfare. Positive traits in the wild (specifically dominance-related aggression and feed-related aggression) are not positive traits for the welfare of domestic pigs.
The Code of Welfare states that sows in all farrowing systems must have manipulable material before farrowing - that is straw most commonly and it is there to allow the sow to build a nest.
They have free access to food at all times, removing the need to forage. They only forage when they're hungry and don't have food freely available.
The piglets come and go freely. In the first few weeks, piglets nurse hourly and sleep a lot. Normal interaction with their mother consists of feeding and sleeping it off. That is completely available in a farrowing crate. The sows are also exhausted by the demands of their piglets and spend most of their time eating, feeding their piglets and sleeping.
Interactions with other pigs isn't normal or natural behaviour until the piglets are weaned. This being impossible is not a problem for sows.
So shall we fix this one too?
While they are confined, they must still have enough space to stand and lie comfortably at full length without leg restriction. Expressing natural behaviours like nest building is possible and provided for, foraging is unnecessary as there is plenty of food provided, interacting with their piglets happens just like normal and interacting with other pigs isn't normal or natural behaviour after farrowing.
Next paragraph.
Pigs are intelligent, sensitive animals that show obvious signs of distress, their heart rate becomes elevated and they may bite the bars of the crates.
This is vague opinion and an appeal to emotion. It implies that you would have to be heartless to approve of this. This is like all those facebook guilt trip posts that tell you only people with a heart will like and share.
Next paragraph.
The Government’s own advisors, the National Animal Welfare Committee (NAWAC) had previously advised the Government that farrowing crates do not meet the requirements of the Animal Welfare Act. Both the Labour Party and the Green Party committed to banning farrowing crates prior to the election. More than 112,000 caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
From the Code of Welfare:
Note: Before the Animal Welfare Act was amended in 2015, Section 73(3) of the Animal Welfare Act 1999 provided that the National Animal Welfare Advisory Committee (NAWAC) may, in exceptional circumstances, recommend minimum standards that do not fully meet the obligations to ensure that the physical, health and behavioural needs of the animal are met. In making this recommendation NAWAC must have regard to, among other things, the feasibility and practicality of effecting a transition from current practices and any adverse effects that may result from such a transition, and the economic effects of any transition from current practices to new practices.
NAWAC considers that the confining of sows in farrowing crates for extended periods does not fully meet the obligations of the Act. Minimum Standards 10 (e) and (f) restrict the time sows are confined in farrowing crates to a maximum of five weeks in any reproductive cycle.
Simplified, before 2015 NAWAC could recommend minimum standards that didn't quite meet their obligations but only in special circumstances. For the amendment to the Act to be mentioned means that this loophole was closed, that they can no longer recommend minimum standards that don't meet those Welfare obligations. I believe that the second paragraph explains how the standards now do meet those obligations.
This statement now becomes kind of half true, although SAFEs statement is missing the words "for extended periods" which makes it misleading at best.
Both the Labour Party and the Green Party committed to banning farrowing crates prior to the election.
Now, I can find the Green Party's manifesto online easily enough including where they say they want to "reduce confinement of sows in farrowing crates". This is not the same thing as "committed to banning farrowing crates". However, I cannot find any sign of the Labour Party having any position whatsoever. In fact, all my google searches only showed up instances of SAFE claiming that Labour had made this promise and should be held to it.
More than 112,000 caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
"More than 112,000 caring Kiwis" gosh, that sounds somewhat impressive doesn't it? In a population of over 4 million this is maybe 2.5% of people in New Zealand. Not quite so impressive now is it? It is also not the 75% claimed in the article I linked to above. "Caring Kiwis like you" is another appeal to emotion, another guilt trip and more attempts at manipulation.
Shall we fix this one too?
The Government’s own advisors, the National Animal Welfare Committee (NAWAC) had previously advised the Government that the use of farrowing crates for extended periods do not meet the requirements of the Animal Welfare Act. This has now changed. The Green Party committed to reducing confinement in farrowing crates prior to the election. SAFE claims that Labour also promised to have them banned but this can't be verified anywhere. Approximately 2.5% of the population, caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
Next paragraph.
But your voices have been ignored - because the Government continues to allow the unlawful confinement of mother pigs in farrowing crates and mating stalls.
Oh dear, how sad. That tiny percent of the population should be the only voice that is listened to? This is more emotional manipulation. The big bad Government doesn't care about you, it's not listening to you and you are really important. You are the only ones who care. Do you see how you're being played?
As is shown in the Code of Welfare, there is nothing unlawful about the use of farrowing crates or mating stalls.
But your voices have been ignored - because the Government continues to follow the advice from the industry experts and independent advisors and allows the lawful confinement of mother pigs in farrowing crates and mating stalls.
Next paragraph.
The Government has failed to protect mother pigs and continues to put the interests of profits for farmers above the well-being of mother pigs. It’s not right and it contradicts the Animal Welfare Act.
The Government has not failed to protect mother pigs at all. The health and welfare of mother pigs must be balanced with the health and welfare of her piglets. NAWAC, the New Zealand Veterinary Association and the Pork Industry all agree that while this system isn't ideal, it is the most suitable one available that best meets the needs of sows, piglets and farmers.
Profits and well-being go together. It costs farmers to be neglectful or cruel to their animals. Stressed animals fail to thrive - which means they don't gain weight or breed easily and therefore don't make a profit - or they die. It has always been more profitable to ensure that your animals are well cared for. Don't fall for the hype.
As has been shown above, the Animal Welfare Act is not being contradicted at all.
So let's fix this paragraph.
The Government has balanced the health and welfare of mother pigs with the health and welfare of their piglets. It’s the best we currently have for all concerned and is completely in line with the Animal Welfare Act.
And the last part.
Because of their failure to act, mother pigs are suffering every day.
We need your help to ensure justice for mother pigs.
It’s time your voices are heard.
These are more appeals to emotion and to believe the lies stated above.
The Government has no need to act, because the current laws and practices are the best thing for all concerned. Sows, piglets and farmers. There is no justice required. Your voices refers to the fraction of a fraction of the populace who have signed the petition and it's ridiculous and arrogant to think you should be the only voices that matter.
Because of their failure to be moved by misleading propoganda, mother pigs and their piglets are thriving and mortality rates are low.
We need your help to interfere with things we don't really understand.
It’s time your voices are heard.
Shall we put it all back together again?
Mother pigs can be confined for up to three months each year. The aggressive ones might be confined in mating stalls for up to seven days to mate. They might be confined again in farrowing crates for up to five weeks, just before they give birth until their babies are weaned.
While they are confined, they must still have enough space to stand and lie comfortably at full length without leg restriction. Expressing natural behaviours like nest building is possible and provided for, foraging is unnecessary as there is plenty of food provided, interacting with their piglets happens just like normal and interacting with other pigs isn't normal or natural behaviour after farrowing.
Pigs are intelligent, sensitive animals that show obvious signs of distress, their heart rate becomes elevated and they may bite the bars of the crates.
The Government’s own advisors, the National Animal Welfare Committee (NAWAC) had previously advised the Government that the use of farrowing crates for extended periods do not meet the requirements of the Animal Welfare Act. This has now changed. The Green Party committed to reducing confinement in farrowing crates prior to the election. SAFE claims that Labour also promised to have them banned but this can't be verified anywhere. Approximately 2.5% of the population caring Kiwis like you signed a petition and told the Government that they want farrowing crates banned.
But your voices have been ignored - because the Government continues to follow the advice from the industry experts and independent advisors and allows the lawful confinement of mother pigs in farrowing crates and mating stalls.
The Government has balanced the health and welfare of mother pigs with the health and welfare of their piglets. It’s the best we currently have for all concerned and is completely in line with the Animal Welfare Act.
Because of their failure to be moved by misleading propoganda, mother pigs and their piglets are thriving and mortality rates are low.
We need your help to interfere with things we don't really understand.
It’s time your voices are heard.
This makes it a very different story.
So my questions are:
Did someone from SAFE read the information freely available online and misunderstand it or did they knowingly choose to misrepresent it?
Do they assume that their volunteers and the general public whose opinions they're trying to sway are stupid and gullible enough to just swallow this without checking for themselves?
Do they really expect that 2.5% of the population should be heard over the remaining 97.5%? Especially when in the 97.5% there are people who actually know what they're talking about?
Is there a hidden agenda buried in all of this contempt and misleading information?
Why aren't we checking for ourselves? This is the information age after all, are we too lazy, too afraid we won't understand or too gullible?
I'm sure SAFE was created with noble intentions. Well, to be fair, I'm not sure, but my Pollyanna side wants to believe that most people are good and honourable. I'm sure that at some point, they've done good works, even if I haven't seen it. However, when you are campaigning on easily discredited misinformation and emotion, it makes you easy to ignore. You clearly don't have enough of a clue to be taken seriously and as an organisation you become a joke to the rest of the populace.
Main Sources:
NAWAC - this website provides links to documents detailing full codes of welfare, best practices and the reviews of current and previous codes. All documents are pdfs which need to be downloaded. I recommend reading the Review of the use of farrowing crates for pigs in NZ.
SAFE - this is the page regarding the proposed legal challenge to current laws around the use of farrowing crates. The main body of text is what I have used above.
The New Zealand Veterinary Association - This page explains what is meant by much of their terminology and their guidelines regarding the use of farrowing crates.
NZPork's Submission to the Primary Production Select Committee - This is a well researched document with plenty of references to studies on both sides of the fence.
I have also had conversations with two large pig farmers, one who no longer breeds pigs, but is internationally recognised as an Industry Expert and the other who for personal reasons, no longer has a pig farm. I cannot quote them directly, name them or cite their references as I have not asked their permission and these conversations have been occasional ones over several years. Mostly when I have asked for advice regarding issues with my own pigs. I am grateful to them for their knowledge and expertise and how much it has helped my own understanding of raising pigs.
Wednesday, 13 February 2019
New Pigs
We had been pigless for a while. While I enjoyed having kunekunes, I was over the time it took for them to grow to an edible size and I missed having crackling on a roast pork.
We kept talking about getting pigs again, but never quite seemed to get around to it.
A friend advertised her piglets for sale, they were eight weeks old and very reasonably priced, so we decided to get two of them. Captain Cookers crossed with Large Whites. They were both white pigs, one slightly bigger than the other. Miss 12 named them Sour Cream and Onion after characters from Steven Universe.
The pig pen needed some work so while that was happening, they went into the calf pen in the milking shed. Of course this created dramas for us. It wouldn't be our place if there were no dramas.
The two fat little piglets made some odd noises and smelled funny. Brownie didn't want to come into the shed for milking. It took me over an hour of coaxing to get her into the shed and I had to spend the entire time with a hand on her hip talking gently to her to keep her in there while the milking machine was running. As soon as I turned it off, she was out of there so fast she nearly trampled me.
This went on for a couple of weeks before she became used to them enough to be okay with milking.
The pig pen was sorted by this time. We included the vege garden temporarily with the intention of having them clean it up from last year, dig it over and fertilise it while they were at it.
So, we tried to move them to the new pen.
Every other pig I have ever had would follow me into the fiery depths of Hell if I was waving a bucket of feed at them. Not these two. With three of us herding, guiding and chasing them, we couldn't get them to go anywhere near the pig pen. After several hours, we gave up and with another half hour of swearing and threatening to turn them into bacon then and there, we got them back into the calf pen in the milking shed. Once they were near the lane, they quite happily trotted into their pen.
They really were too big for the pen, they destroyed everything I put in there for water for them - that includes chewing large plastic storage bins into small pieces. They stunk, they ran from me as soon as I stepped in their pen and ran in panicky circles so I didn't want to upset them more by going in to clean out their poop.
I accidentally let them out one morning while feeding them, at first I thought they'd be easy to get back in from the lane. Just like last time. HA! They were exploring, they were having fun, they were slippery smart little buggers who found their way into Brownie's paddock and loved running around. I rang Hubby after an hour, to let him know I'd probably be late for work and why. He wasn't at his phone so I left a voicemail.
I tried blocking off their escape routes, I used pallets, trestle tables, corrugated iron, spare farm gates and anything else I could lay my hands on. I am still impressed by how small a gap a determined pig can get through.
After another hour I rang Hubby again, he'd been laughing at my voicemail and impressed by my ability to swear so profusely and descriptively without repeating myself. I was exhausted and every muscle in my body was hurting. I needed a shower and work started half an hour ago an hour's drive away. There was nothing I was needed for urgently at work so we made the decision I wasn't going in.
I wasn't willing to leave them to run. If they got out onto the road, there was no telling where they could get to or the damage they could cause to neighbouring farms. That's assuming they didn't get run over or shot.
In the end it took me six very long and frustrating hours to get them back into their pen.
We tried building small caged carts to move them. That was an epic failure. The second variation was so bad, that they ripped it apart and escaped again. This time there were three of us (and an unimpressed housecow) there to try and round them up. It worked no better with three of us than it did with just me on my own. Hubby's language outstripped mine in a much shorter time frame.
After an hour, we limped inside and had dinner. I left the lights on in the milking shed, the gate to their pen open and left some fresh feed in there. After dinner, I went out to have a look. They'd trotted in, had a feed and snuggled up for bed. All by themselves.
We discussed our options.
We had a second pig house, very near the milking shed. We hurriedly fenced it and drove the pigs in there. They went easily. They had room to run and play, they had a water trough that they would be hard pressed to destroy, they had soil to dig and grass to eat.
There were still piglets available from the same litter. We decided to get another two and put them in the original pig run to turn over the vege garden.
We picked up the next two. One white and one grey. They were considerably smaller than Sour Cream and Onion, so shifting them from the trailer to their pen was as simple as picking them up by their hind legs and lifting them over the fence. These two were named Salt and Vinegar.
I was warned by a professional pig farmer to keep them separate. Even though they were all from the same litter, they'd been apart for about 6 weeks and they were all boars. They would fight and it would probably be to the death.
I was able to keep them apart for maybe two weeks at the most. Sour Cream and Onion kept jumping out of their pen. I built it up higher. They climbed out of that too. I swear the only reason that humans are in charge of pigs and not the other way around is because of opposable thumbs. I saw these knee high pigs go over four foot high fences - fences that keep my cows in but aren't high enough to contain determined pigs.
I was starting to imagine seven foot high concrete walls. I was picturing myself climbing a ladder to tip their feed over and still not being confident that it would be high enough.
Then they made it into the pen with Salt and Vinegar. They seemed to be getting along just fine. There was a little rough and tumble, but that had been happening between Sour Cream and Onion anyway. The hierarchy needed sorting. I watched them for a few days and gave up. It seemed there was a way to get them into the vege garden after all.
We kept talking about getting pigs again, but never quite seemed to get around to it.
A friend advertised her piglets for sale, they were eight weeks old and very reasonably priced, so we decided to get two of them. Captain Cookers crossed with Large Whites. They were both white pigs, one slightly bigger than the other. Miss 12 named them Sour Cream and Onion after characters from Steven Universe.
The pig pen needed some work so while that was happening, they went into the calf pen in the milking shed. Of course this created dramas for us. It wouldn't be our place if there were no dramas.
 |
| Sour Cream and Onion in the calf pen. |
The two fat little piglets made some odd noises and smelled funny. Brownie didn't want to come into the shed for milking. It took me over an hour of coaxing to get her into the shed and I had to spend the entire time with a hand on her hip talking gently to her to keep her in there while the milking machine was running. As soon as I turned it off, she was out of there so fast she nearly trampled me.
 |
| Nope. Smells funny. |
This went on for a couple of weeks before she became used to them enough to be okay with milking.
The pig pen was sorted by this time. We included the vege garden temporarily with the intention of having them clean it up from last year, dig it over and fertilise it while they were at it.
So, we tried to move them to the new pen.
Every other pig I have ever had would follow me into the fiery depths of Hell if I was waving a bucket of feed at them. Not these two. With three of us herding, guiding and chasing them, we couldn't get them to go anywhere near the pig pen. After several hours, we gave up and with another half hour of swearing and threatening to turn them into bacon then and there, we got them back into the calf pen in the milking shed. Once they were near the lane, they quite happily trotted into their pen.
They really were too big for the pen, they destroyed everything I put in there for water for them - that includes chewing large plastic storage bins into small pieces. They stunk, they ran from me as soon as I stepped in their pen and ran in panicky circles so I didn't want to upset them more by going in to clean out their poop.
I accidentally let them out one morning while feeding them, at first I thought they'd be easy to get back in from the lane. Just like last time. HA! They were exploring, they were having fun, they were slippery smart little buggers who found their way into Brownie's paddock and loved running around. I rang Hubby after an hour, to let him know I'd probably be late for work and why. He wasn't at his phone so I left a voicemail.
I tried blocking off their escape routes, I used pallets, trestle tables, corrugated iron, spare farm gates and anything else I could lay my hands on. I am still impressed by how small a gap a determined pig can get through.
After another hour I rang Hubby again, he'd been laughing at my voicemail and impressed by my ability to swear so profusely and descriptively without repeating myself. I was exhausted and every muscle in my body was hurting. I needed a shower and work started half an hour ago an hour's drive away. There was nothing I was needed for urgently at work so we made the decision I wasn't going in.
I wasn't willing to leave them to run. If they got out onto the road, there was no telling where they could get to or the damage they could cause to neighbouring farms. That's assuming they didn't get run over or shot.
In the end it took me six very long and frustrating hours to get them back into their pen.
We tried building small caged carts to move them. That was an epic failure. The second variation was so bad, that they ripped it apart and escaped again. This time there were three of us (and an unimpressed housecow) there to try and round them up. It worked no better with three of us than it did with just me on my own. Hubby's language outstripped mine in a much shorter time frame.
After an hour, we limped inside and had dinner. I left the lights on in the milking shed, the gate to their pen open and left some fresh feed in there. After dinner, I went out to have a look. They'd trotted in, had a feed and snuggled up for bed. All by themselves.
We discussed our options.
We had a second pig house, very near the milking shed. We hurriedly fenced it and drove the pigs in there. They went easily. They had room to run and play, they had a water trough that they would be hard pressed to destroy, they had soil to dig and grass to eat.
 |
| Sour Cream and Onion in the new pen. |
There were still piglets available from the same litter. We decided to get another two and put them in the original pig run to turn over the vege garden.
We picked up the next two. One white and one grey. They were considerably smaller than Sour Cream and Onion, so shifting them from the trailer to their pen was as simple as picking them up by their hind legs and lifting them over the fence. These two were named Salt and Vinegar.
I was warned by a professional pig farmer to keep them separate. Even though they were all from the same litter, they'd been apart for about 6 weeks and they were all boars. They would fight and it would probably be to the death.
I was able to keep them apart for maybe two weeks at the most. Sour Cream and Onion kept jumping out of their pen. I built it up higher. They climbed out of that too. I swear the only reason that humans are in charge of pigs and not the other way around is because of opposable thumbs. I saw these knee high pigs go over four foot high fences - fences that keep my cows in but aren't high enough to contain determined pigs.
I was starting to imagine seven foot high concrete walls. I was picturing myself climbing a ladder to tip their feed over and still not being confident that it would be high enough.
Then they made it into the pen with Salt and Vinegar. They seemed to be getting along just fine. There was a little rough and tumble, but that had been happening between Sour Cream and Onion anyway. The hierarchy needed sorting. I watched them for a few days and gave up. It seemed there was a way to get them into the vege garden after all.
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| All four pigs together. |
Thursday, 14 December 2017
The Joys of Borrowed Bulls
Just once, I would like to have no drama with a borrowed bull. Just once I would like to have the whole process from pick up to leaving run smoothly with no incidents.
The first bull we borrowed was Campbell. We thought we were rather green and clueless until we met the people we were picking him up from.
Hubby had torn his calf muscle playing touch rugby the night before, he was okay to drive (and back a horse float which I can't do) but was hopeless on his feet. We got to the place to pick him up and beat the owners there. There isn't a house on their land, they live in town, but they arrived about 15 minutes after we did. With all four children. Including a baby in a front pack. The older three children ranging up to about 7 years were terrified of all their animals and screamed a lot.
Campbell was still running in the same paddock with two cows, a steer, several sheep and llamas. So our first mission was to separate him, which he wasn't happy about. They had half built yards, but they certainly weren't ready for the cattle so the screaming children went into them with their mother and the baby.
Then we had to try to get him into the float. This is a double horse float sitting in a wide open paddock. Not even a lane to narrow it down and an unhappy bull who has just been separated from his herd.
Eventually the guy got a roll of electric fencing wire and some standards and we started to string a line across the paddock. I understand zapping yourself on the hot wire the first time, but not every time you get within a metre of it like he did. He also had tall standards and put the wire on the top notch, so Campbell was able to duck under it where the paddock dipped and we had to start again from scratch. He tried to lead him with a handful of hay, but as soon as Campbell came for a mouthful, he dropped all of it so Campbell stopped where he was and ate all the hay.
This guy had no idea of how to manage cattle, how to drive him, how to string a hot wire or how to keep himself safe. It was two parts comical to one part ... I don't quite know what word I'm looking for here, it made us feel that we weren't so bad after all, but also quite concerned for him long term. It was like watching one of those dreadful slapstick comedies, where you spend most of your time cringing, uncomfortable and embarrassed for the main character but you can't help laughing a little at some of the pratfalls.
So there was this guy, Hubby trying to limp around slowly and me doing most of the leg work. I restrung the hot wire, drove him from the other side and got him down towards the float. All it took after that was a bit of hay tossed into the float and he went in nicely. An hour and a half after we'd arrived.
We got him home and he entertained the girls for a couple of days. Then the neighbours bulls broke through the floodgate - I wrote about it here.
When it came time for him to leave, the lady coming to pick him up delayed it for a couple of months and then he really didn't want to go on the float she brought. It took an hour or so to get him on the float. We had him penned, he didn't have any other space to go elsewhere, he just wouldn't quite commit to the ramp, even with hay.
The next bull was Monroe. Picking him up was a piece of cake. He went beautifully onto the float, travelled nicely and seemed to have lovely manners to begin with.
Then I figure he must have done his job and gotten bored. He managed to get himself under a deer fence into the shelter belt and then over the gate at the end to fight with the biggest of the three angus steers I had at the time - who was also the one I was grazing for a friend.
I've seen dominance fights between bulls before, having had several different herds of bulls next door with all their political maneuvering and constantly changing hierarchies. This wasn't like that, this was to the death. Neither bull belonged to us and I was worried about having to inform one or both owners that their animals had died in my care. It wasn't safe to go near them, they had no awareness of anything around them except for each other. I rang the neighbour in a panic, I had no idea what to do and there were four more steers in that paddock getting all excited and wound up by the fight.
The neighbour came over on his four wheeled farm bike, he ran around and around them making a lot of noise until they were more worried about him than each other and then we were able to drive them in separate directions.
A week later he was heading off to his next visit. The lady picking him up arrived at about 9am on a weekday when there was just me at home. The horse float she had hired was a single width one which made it too narrow to effectively block the lane although that came later. First of all, she couldn't back a trailer. Secondly, her car was too low to make it over the high verge on the edge of the road so she couldn't straighten up to go into the gate that way.
Because the float seemed light, we unhitched it and tried to push it through the gate by hand. We couldn't get it up over the high cut verge. We were now blocking the road too.
Luckily for us, a lovely couple were passing who clearly had a lot of experience working together with floats or trailers. He backed up to the float hitch, she stood in the middle and with very simple signals lined him up perfectly. He backed the float into the paddock. Monroe wouldn't even go into the lane where the float was however. I had to get a hot wire that wasn't connected and kind of drag net him into it. He immediately tried to jump over the front bar and got himself stuck with his rib cage taking most of his weight on this steel bar.
Mr Lovely Passing Couple spotted this through the window and asked if we had an angle grinder to cut the bolt from the outside because if he stayed that way, he'd die. He towed the float with bull inside up to the house and sheds and I went to get the grinder. I couldn't find it anywhere. There were four of us at this stage, frantically searching Hubby's shed and none of us could see it. We were considering other options when he managed to move himself back off this bar.
At this stage, we discovered the flat tyre on the float. Luckily, the foot pump was easily found.
10am when she left with Monroe, I thanked the Lovely Passing Couple profusely and I was ready to start hard drinking.
It's been a while since we last got a bull. A big part of that was not having a vehicle capable of towing a float and bull available to us anymore (my car is only rated to tow 750kg) and no yards and ramps for trucks.
A very good friend with horses (and therefore, a float and capable vehicle) was kind enough to help us.
We started with a vague communication mix-up which meant we started out several hours later than planned. Kieran went onto the float beautifully - mind you, he also did it from a race only just wider than him. That was the easy part.
On the drive home, he kept jumping up and looking out over the door. The float had horizontal cross pieces on the ramp/door, that allowed him to have his front feet up and be hanging over the top. Afraid that he might jump out and hurt himself, my friend started to go side to side sharply. Just enough to throw him off balance so he'd want to have four feet on the floor. She had to do this a few times. Then as it was just shy of full dark and we were still in the middle of nowhere, we got a flat tyre on the float. Well, it wasn't just flat, it was shredded.
My friend had only had the van for a month or two and had never needed to change a tyre on it yet, so our first mission was to figure out where the jack and tools were hidden. Once they were found, Hubby got the wheel partially jacked up but we discovered the wheel brace for the van was the wrong size for the float wheel nuts. My friend rang her hubby to come and rescue us with a socket set, although he was at least 45 mins away. A lady came past and stopped, offering to call her husband to come and help, but since help was already on it's way, we said thanks but we're fine. She must have called anyway because her husband turned up about 10 minutes later with all the gear and plenty of stories about horse float mishaps - including cattle that jump out, bounce on the road, get up and run for miles.
Once we were back on the road, it was a long, dark, hungry trip home to unload him and then back to the friend's place where our car and Miss 11 were. I think we got a dinner of snacks sorted at about 11pm in the end.
Kieran was mostly well behaved, although he did spend a lot of time singing to the neighbour's cattle. Some of those songs were very long and lasted most of the night. But when we had those naughty cattle from the neighbours jumping fences to our place in the paddock next to him, he still stayed in his paddock and didn't push the issue.
When it came time for him to leave, he was going to Nelson, normally a four hour drive, but since the earthquakes changed the main road layouts, the only road available now was heavily travelled and in bad repair. This makes the trip about twice as long. The guy who was getting him wanted to send a truck down to pick him up. It was only going to cost him $75. I rang the neighbour to ask if we could use his yards and ramp.
Unfortunately, we'd just had about a month of constant rain, so the ground around his yards was very boggy, he said that he nearly got stuck there on his farm bike, but he'd help me run him to the yards and ramp about a kilometre up the road. I had lost the number for the people who own those yards. I tried both calling and texting the local stock agent who uses the yards often - partly for the number and partly to check if he would be using them. He still hasn't returned either call or text (months later). I wonder if he's afraid I was going to rip him a new one for his cattle breaking through the floodgate and eating the several hundred dollars worth of trees we'd planted.
We tried knocking on the door but there was no one home. I called the guy who Keiran was going to next and gave him an update. He said he'd get back to me, when he'd talked to the truck company.
The next day, I was driving past that neighbour's house and saw someone leaving and Mr Neighbour just heading back into the house. I stopped and spoke to him. He was quite happy to let us use the yards and gave me his number.
The guy who was getting Kieran next rang and I told him I had permission and contact but he'd already decided to drive down with a horse float and pick him up himself, did I know of a motel or some place to stay in Amberley?
They were at our place 7am two days later and Kieran loaded up into the float nicely.
Can't wait to see what the next one brings us.
Campbell
The first bull we borrowed was Campbell. We thought we were rather green and clueless until we met the people we were picking him up from.
Hubby had torn his calf muscle playing touch rugby the night before, he was okay to drive (and back a horse float which I can't do) but was hopeless on his feet. We got to the place to pick him up and beat the owners there. There isn't a house on their land, they live in town, but they arrived about 15 minutes after we did. With all four children. Including a baby in a front pack. The older three children ranging up to about 7 years were terrified of all their animals and screamed a lot.
Campbell was still running in the same paddock with two cows, a steer, several sheep and llamas. So our first mission was to separate him, which he wasn't happy about. They had half built yards, but they certainly weren't ready for the cattle so the screaming children went into them with their mother and the baby.
Then we had to try to get him into the float. This is a double horse float sitting in a wide open paddock. Not even a lane to narrow it down and an unhappy bull who has just been separated from his herd.
Eventually the guy got a roll of electric fencing wire and some standards and we started to string a line across the paddock. I understand zapping yourself on the hot wire the first time, but not every time you get within a metre of it like he did. He also had tall standards and put the wire on the top notch, so Campbell was able to duck under it where the paddock dipped and we had to start again from scratch. He tried to lead him with a handful of hay, but as soon as Campbell came for a mouthful, he dropped all of it so Campbell stopped where he was and ate all the hay.
This guy had no idea of how to manage cattle, how to drive him, how to string a hot wire or how to keep himself safe. It was two parts comical to one part ... I don't quite know what word I'm looking for here, it made us feel that we weren't so bad after all, but also quite concerned for him long term. It was like watching one of those dreadful slapstick comedies, where you spend most of your time cringing, uncomfortable and embarrassed for the main character but you can't help laughing a little at some of the pratfalls.
So there was this guy, Hubby trying to limp around slowly and me doing most of the leg work. I restrung the hot wire, drove him from the other side and got him down towards the float. All it took after that was a bit of hay tossed into the float and he went in nicely. An hour and a half after we'd arrived.
We got him home and he entertained the girls for a couple of days. Then the neighbours bulls broke through the floodgate - I wrote about it here.
When it came time for him to leave, the lady coming to pick him up delayed it for a couple of months and then he really didn't want to go on the float she brought. It took an hour or so to get him on the float. We had him penned, he didn't have any other space to go elsewhere, he just wouldn't quite commit to the ramp, even with hay.
Monroe
The next bull was Monroe. Picking him up was a piece of cake. He went beautifully onto the float, travelled nicely and seemed to have lovely manners to begin with.
Then I figure he must have done his job and gotten bored. He managed to get himself under a deer fence into the shelter belt and then over the gate at the end to fight with the biggest of the three angus steers I had at the time - who was also the one I was grazing for a friend.
I've seen dominance fights between bulls before, having had several different herds of bulls next door with all their political maneuvering and constantly changing hierarchies. This wasn't like that, this was to the death. Neither bull belonged to us and I was worried about having to inform one or both owners that their animals had died in my care. It wasn't safe to go near them, they had no awareness of anything around them except for each other. I rang the neighbour in a panic, I had no idea what to do and there were four more steers in that paddock getting all excited and wound up by the fight.
The neighbour came over on his four wheeled farm bike, he ran around and around them making a lot of noise until they were more worried about him than each other and then we were able to drive them in separate directions.
A week later he was heading off to his next visit. The lady picking him up arrived at about 9am on a weekday when there was just me at home. The horse float she had hired was a single width one which made it too narrow to effectively block the lane although that came later. First of all, she couldn't back a trailer. Secondly, her car was too low to make it over the high verge on the edge of the road so she couldn't straighten up to go into the gate that way.
Because the float seemed light, we unhitched it and tried to push it through the gate by hand. We couldn't get it up over the high cut verge. We were now blocking the road too.
Luckily for us, a lovely couple were passing who clearly had a lot of experience working together with floats or trailers. He backed up to the float hitch, she stood in the middle and with very simple signals lined him up perfectly. He backed the float into the paddock. Monroe wouldn't even go into the lane where the float was however. I had to get a hot wire that wasn't connected and kind of drag net him into it. He immediately tried to jump over the front bar and got himself stuck with his rib cage taking most of his weight on this steel bar.
Mr Lovely Passing Couple spotted this through the window and asked if we had an angle grinder to cut the bolt from the outside because if he stayed that way, he'd die. He towed the float with bull inside up to the house and sheds and I went to get the grinder. I couldn't find it anywhere. There were four of us at this stage, frantically searching Hubby's shed and none of us could see it. We were considering other options when he managed to move himself back off this bar.
At this stage, we discovered the flat tyre on the float. Luckily, the foot pump was easily found.
10am when she left with Monroe, I thanked the Lovely Passing Couple profusely and I was ready to start hard drinking.
Kieran
It's been a while since we last got a bull. A big part of that was not having a vehicle capable of towing a float and bull available to us anymore (my car is only rated to tow 750kg) and no yards and ramps for trucks.
A very good friend with horses (and therefore, a float and capable vehicle) was kind enough to help us.
We started with a vague communication mix-up which meant we started out several hours later than planned. Kieran went onto the float beautifully - mind you, he also did it from a race only just wider than him. That was the easy part.
On the drive home, he kept jumping up and looking out over the door. The float had horizontal cross pieces on the ramp/door, that allowed him to have his front feet up and be hanging over the top. Afraid that he might jump out and hurt himself, my friend started to go side to side sharply. Just enough to throw him off balance so he'd want to have four feet on the floor. She had to do this a few times. Then as it was just shy of full dark and we were still in the middle of nowhere, we got a flat tyre on the float. Well, it wasn't just flat, it was shredded.
My friend had only had the van for a month or two and had never needed to change a tyre on it yet, so our first mission was to figure out where the jack and tools were hidden. Once they were found, Hubby got the wheel partially jacked up but we discovered the wheel brace for the van was the wrong size for the float wheel nuts. My friend rang her hubby to come and rescue us with a socket set, although he was at least 45 mins away. A lady came past and stopped, offering to call her husband to come and help, but since help was already on it's way, we said thanks but we're fine. She must have called anyway because her husband turned up about 10 minutes later with all the gear and plenty of stories about horse float mishaps - including cattle that jump out, bounce on the road, get up and run for miles.
Once we were back on the road, it was a long, dark, hungry trip home to unload him and then back to the friend's place where our car and Miss 11 were. I think we got a dinner of snacks sorted at about 11pm in the end.
Kieran was mostly well behaved, although he did spend a lot of time singing to the neighbour's cattle. Some of those songs were very long and lasted most of the night. But when we had those naughty cattle from the neighbours jumping fences to our place in the paddock next to him, he still stayed in his paddock and didn't push the issue.
When it came time for him to leave, he was going to Nelson, normally a four hour drive, but since the earthquakes changed the main road layouts, the only road available now was heavily travelled and in bad repair. This makes the trip about twice as long. The guy who was getting him wanted to send a truck down to pick him up. It was only going to cost him $75. I rang the neighbour to ask if we could use his yards and ramp.
Unfortunately, we'd just had about a month of constant rain, so the ground around his yards was very boggy, he said that he nearly got stuck there on his farm bike, but he'd help me run him to the yards and ramp about a kilometre up the road. I had lost the number for the people who own those yards. I tried both calling and texting the local stock agent who uses the yards often - partly for the number and partly to check if he would be using them. He still hasn't returned either call or text (months later). I wonder if he's afraid I was going to rip him a new one for his cattle breaking through the floodgate and eating the several hundred dollars worth of trees we'd planted.
We tried knocking on the door but there was no one home. I called the guy who Keiran was going to next and gave him an update. He said he'd get back to me, when he'd talked to the truck company.
The next day, I was driving past that neighbour's house and saw someone leaving and Mr Neighbour just heading back into the house. I stopped and spoke to him. He was quite happy to let us use the yards and gave me his number.
The guy who was getting Kieran next rang and I told him I had permission and contact but he'd already decided to drive down with a horse float and pick him up himself, did I know of a motel or some place to stay in Amberley?
They were at our place 7am two days later and Kieran loaded up into the float nicely.
Can't wait to see what the next one brings us.
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