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Wednesday, December 2, 2009

orphan piglet (well, sorta)


One of my sows had a litter in a bad spot on the pasture -- middle of a puddle, and most of the piglets died.  I didn't find her for a few hours, and when I did, only one was alive, so i brought it back out and warmed it up in the truck, and then took it home and have been bottle-feeding it for the last couple of weeks. 

This is a self-grilling piglet.  Here she's cuddled up to the electric baseboard heater afte getting her bottle of milke, and is grunting softly.  She's got a variety of vocalizations, a whole range and chorus, and seems to use them consistently.  There's the "I recognize you" grunt, the "slow down, you're walking too fast" squeal, the "I want a bottle now squeal" and so on. 

I don't mind handling the sows as much as I do the barrows.  There's a chance that if I get attached I can keep her around for breeding purposes.  I usually maintain a bigger distance between myself and the animals, but it's been interesting dealing with this infant pig. 


4 comments:

  1. One longtime pig farmer told me that its the sows (and boars) you get attached to that you'll probably keep around after they've started to cost you money.

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  2. Who's claimin' the mia culpa for all the kin to the one ya got livin in yer cozy casa... I mean on account of the fact that the first few breaths of their short lives was a mix of feces laden mud-puddle water and all. Did ya have a nice hut for that old girl to take care of her natural business or did she have no choice but to spit her kin right dab in the middle of a puddle. Or is she just one of those hard headed old girls that just sticks it to ya any old way she can... and deep too. what I know Bruce, is did you fuck up or is the sow at fault. It's hard for the reader to glean that information.

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  3. who's at fault -- I am.

    It happened on my land with an animal in my care. So it's my fault.

    She had several different places she could have farrowed; four calf huts bedded with hay, a 1/2 acre of forest that would have offered some cover, or, if I'd noticed her in time, I could have put her into the hay barn as I've been doing with other sows as they farrow.

    She created a nest by rooting out a furrow, and after the did that it rained. The furrow filled with water, and the pigs went into the water sometime during the night. In the morning, when I came out to check on the herd, well...

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  4. Sort of a sad story, but she sure is cute! Have you named her (and therefore, committed her to the not-eaten crowd, at least for a while)? :-)

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