pigs

Death and Dying Part 2

Posted on March 14, 2021 Written by Serena 1 Comment

When I started this website, one of my first blog posts was on Death, Dying, and Killing. Reading it now, it all still holds true, but so much has happened since then.

I befriended two of our meat birds, Herman and Izzy. This was not a smart thing to do and Fred reminded me of this repeatedly. After I lost Pee-Wee, my heart was broken. Then Herman came along. So small. So loving. What else could I do but let him snuggle up against me and follow me everywhere? Herman got in the layer area with Maxie and she held him down and tore his skin in a bad spot. Instead of risking an infection, I decided to put him down. We had another bird that was cut in the same way and the infection that set in after was not what I wanted to happen to him.

Then there was Izzy. Izzy was getting picked on relentlessly by the others. Our niece first noticed her when visiting. We took Izzy out of the coop and she followed our niece around much to her delight. I kept her in the house a day or so and put her back with the others. Every time I walk by she would run to the front of the coop trying to get to me. The others were still picking on her, so into the old rabbit tractor she went. Like Herman, she would follow me around, sit on my lap as I worked, and come when I called. I took her to a few events since she would sit on my arm or on top of a cage and people watch. One day as she ran towards me, she stumbled and had a heart attack. My heart broke.

When Gertie had a litter of 14, I was stunned. She had two runts that died within the first 2 days. A third one died and we never found the body. When a piglet dies, the mother will either take it away from the nest or eat it to keep predators away.

I try to be at every farrowing in case a piglet is in distress. I’ve pressed my lips to many a newborn piglet’s snout in hopes of reviving it. Even though I’ve never succeeded, I still try.

A few years back, Momma had a calf die during birth. It was horrible. We hadn’t found her in time and the calf was breached hanging halfway out. While Fred went to call the vet, I stayed with her and tried to keep her calm. She was trying her best to push him out and I was trying my best to pull. She finally got down on the ground and started to roll and that worked. A very big bull finally came out. Momma got up and went to lick the calf. Nothing. She looked at me and mooed the saddest moo ever. I started to cry and told her I was sorry. Two steers were in the next paddock and gave her a low somber moo. They knew. She knew. We were all sad the bull wasn’t moving.

It takes time for a momma cow to accept their baby is gone. You can’t just take the calf, you have to let her mourn. You have to let her see the calf isn’t getting up and never will. She stayed with him overnight and by morning joined the rest of the herd. Again, my heart was broken.

Right now, Spring is coming and in the next few months, piglets and calves will be born. It’s bittersweet anticipation. In one of my favorite books, The Winter Room by Gary Paulsen, the main character Eldon says his teacher talks of Spring as a time of birth. Being a farm boy, he knows it’s also a time of death. That’s what raising livestock has also taught me.

I let my heart fill with joy with each beautiful birth and maintain it there through each death that may come. To hope everyone makes it is a fool’s folly. To never stop caring and trying and standing in awe of all the wonder I get to witness and participate in, is what I strive for.

Corky’s Piglets

Posted on November 23, 2019 Written by Serena 2 Comments

I’m always excited about piglets. The weeks leading up to the big day, trying to guess when it will happen, pampering the momma, even staying up late in the freezing cold, it’s all worth it.

Last week, when I got home from driving my afternoon school bus route, Corky had started to farrow. The nice thing about attending farrows is I get to know the changes in breathing and movement that go along with the process.

As I watched her, I knew she still had piglets to birth. The way she kicked her legs, a certain grunt, it all said: “I’m working on more!”

I cleaned each one up and told Corky she was doing a great job. We don’t use heat lamps, so I made sure each stayed close to her for warmth.

I stayed with her for two hours while she added 3 piglets to her litter.

When she was having trouble getting one out, she’d half sit up, and roll back down. Sure enough, one would come out right after.

But when she stood up, turned around, laid back down, I knew that was that. Her breathing slowed and was easy. She softly grunted at the piglets to come eat and they did.

I waited another 20 minutes or so and the afterbirth came. My heart sank.

She delivered 5 piglets. One stillborn with leg deformities, four alive. One of the four also had deformed legs and we had to put it down.

That leaves three piglets with this litter. Her previous litters were eight and two.

If Corky were solely a pet, I’d be happy to keep her and never get another piglet from her. But she’s not a pet. And sows that produce so few piglets don’t work for our business.

These were to be our farmer market hogs, so our pork will be in short supply for the summer. Not a good thing.

Having piglets, even just three, is hard on the sow. After the piglets are weaned, we’ll let her regain her conditioning and make an appointment at the butcher.

It’s not an easy decision to make, but a necessary one for us to be sustainable, to continue producing meat, and to keep lesser quality genetics out of production.

I will enjoy these few months with Corky and when the time comes, cry my eyes out when we say goodbye.

Introducing Trudy’s Piglets!

Posted on June 25, 2019 Written by Serena 5 Comments

Every farrowing is different. Every sow works through it in her own way. That’s part of why I love to be there when it happens.

Yesterday afternoon, Trudy was on her side, up and down, and really uncomfortable, so I put a bale of hay into her stall. She immediately got up and started adding it to her nest and then peed. Both good signs!

Contrary to popular belief, pigs are quite clean and do not use their living space as a bathroom. So when she chose to use a corner as a toilet, I knew for sure, she was ready.

I checked on her once after chores and decided to come back later. When I returned at about 8:45pm, there was one piglet roaming around nowhere near Trudy. UGH!

The first piglet not nursing is an issue for two reasons. 1–nursing helps release oxytocin that helps with contractions. Better contractions mean easier birthing. 2–not nursing means no food, and no food means no warmth.

With her first litter, I was right there with no problem, but it was on pasture. Now, in a confined space, I was worried about how she would react to me jumping in. And with the sides of the stalls chest high, mud to my ankles in front of the door, and a low ceiling, I had no good escape route if things went bad. Even if I did get in the pen to help, I’d have to walk in front of the bone-crushing jaws of a momma sow in labor to get to the piglet. Not happening. So I waited nervously.

When Trudy started to roll, I knew it could be a long and devastating night. She was trying to push a piglet out with her body. Up and down, rolling this way, rolling that way. With every movement, I cringed hoping she would avoid the piglet. I coached her with a soft voice, “you can do it, Trudy, just relax and let it come.” And it did–a huge piglet.

After the second piglet, she moved once more and put her belly facing the stall divider. PERFECT! I could get into the next stall and help from there.

After I clamored along the edge of the barn, only stepping into the mud with my holey boot once, I was in the next stall and could reach the piglets and her belly. I got each piglet on a teat and started rubbing the others. Soon number 3 came.

I don’t know why she moved in that position by the divider, but it worked well. If she wanted to, she could take out the divider without much effort. I think she felt my safety concerns but wanted my help. It also kept the piglets close to her acting as a side of the nest. And probably most useful, she pushed on it with her feet as she was delivering and having contractions. I should have worn earplugs. The sound of a 400 lb sow in labor stomping against tin is deafening.

She was doing great! Some came almost right after the other. Some had a bit of a lag. Right as I was thinking, “I’m so lucky to have not witnessed a stillborn or mummy piglet”, she birthed a stillborn.

Of course, in my mind, I could save it. I pulled it over to my side, ripped off the sac and started compressions as I tried to clear the mouth with my finger. No luck. The legs were a bit bony and longer than they should be. Maybe it died before filling out? Maybe it was a disorder? I don’t know.

Then she passed something strange; what looked like an empty sac. I pulled it over to my side and could see the outline of a small skull and partial spine. When a piglet dies in utero, the mother’s system will begin to absorb it. I think that’s what it was.

All in all, 11 healthy piglets, about half boys, and half girls were born in 3.5hours. I stayed to make sure she passed all of the afterbirths–there are 2–and then watched everyone for a while to make sure each had a turn on the teat.

It’s a hard few first days for piglets. Being stepped or laid down on are the biggest issues. Since they can’t regulate their body temp well for the first few days, staying close to Trudy, and littermates in plenty of bedding helps maintain their heat. We breed our pigs for hardiness, so we don’t use heat lamps.

I left with high hopes of seeing all 11 this morning, and I did! In the next week, we’ll be offering farm tours with some piggie playtime. Until then, they’re all mine!!!!!

Breeding to Butcher–Part 3 Going to Market

Posted on September 15, 2017 Written by Serena 3 Comments

Our last batch of hogs are back from the processor, so it seems like a good time to talk about the worst part of our job. One of the most common questions we get is “how do you kill/eat the animals you raise”? I write about death on the farm here, but the short answer is…it’s hard. Really, really, hard. Just thinking about it gives me knots in my stomach.

Once the piglets are weaned, they spend their life out on pasture eating grass and rooting up whatever they can find. When the nuts are falling off the trees, they go into the woods to hunt for acorns, hickory nuts, and walnuts. They lounge in the sun and make giant wallows to cool down in.

Even though a sow can breed 3 days after weaning, we wait at least 3 months to give her some time to recoup. We also saved a gilt (female) from Corky’s litter to use as a replacement breeder.

We wait until our pigs are at least 7 months old before they go to the butcher. Heritage breeds grow slower than commercial breeds and the extra time allows for a better flavor and texture of meat. We also get our hogs to about 250-300 pounds before butchering.

When we had Shooter butchered, they let me stay through the whole thing, walked me through what and why they were doing what they did, and answered all my questions. It was hard. REALLY hard. But if I am going to sell meat, I want to know exactly what is happening to my animals when I take them to the butcher. If someone has a question about the process, I want to be able to answer from my personal experience, not from what I have read or heard. Having a processing team I trust makes it a bit easier, but my heart still aches as we drive away. Every time, I hold it together until we go feed the others. Then the tears start to flow.

It’s something that will never get easy. Like with the chickens. Number 650 is just as hard as number 1. I think there’s a difference between getting used to it and coming to terms with it. Getting used to it means I have been doing it too long and I have lost my compassion for the animal and for the gift they are giving us. Coming to terms with it is knowing that how we raise our animals and how they are butchered makes a difference. That’s how I know we are giving our animals a great life. If we didn’t care, it wouldn’t be this hard. I never want to be ok after we take an animal in to be butchered. Even though it would be harder, both physically and emotionally to do it ourselves, I do wish we could. We are lucky enough to not have to load up our chickens to haul to a processor, and I wish that were the case with our hogs and cattle.

We hope you have enjoyed the journey we take from breeding our sows in Part 1, to having piglets in Part 2, and now understanding why giving our hogs the best life they can have is so important to us.

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