David and I aren’t exactly the most calculated folk. But bless our hearts I think we get an excellent mark for follow through. See, we’ve been wanting pigs for a fair share of time, biding our time till we had enough space to accommodate the rapturous creatures and their insatiable appetites. We knew when we landed here on our farm a year ago that pigs were in our future – at some point.
So naturally when I connected miraculously with a breeder a few hours north (thank you glorious groups of FB) who happened to have the exact breed we wanted for a reasonable price, we rolled out to pasture, slapped a make shift piggie pen together in about an hour or two and hit the road.
We spend a lovely afternoon Farm-talkin’ it up with Sergei a seasoned Red Wattle Breeder checking out his amazing operation and soaking in as much sage-pig-wisdom as my giddy self could absorb.
We. Are. Really. Friggen’. Getting. Pigs
What are we in for must’ve gone through my mind a dozen times while we were there, enamored by his boars and sows as our farm kids made themselves comfy commingling with fluffy farm kittens.
Finally the time came to grab our little oinkers and David was the man for the job. We were warned that pigs squeal and of course we knew pigs squealed…. but dang…..
It was like a christening.
We were both grinning and giggling ear to ear as he wrangled up the little sow as she screamed her head off all the while doing a round wiggle with her hind side as he carried the noisiest 50lbs he’d ever done carried to the back of my envoy.
Let me give you my own hard earned sage-pig-wisdom:
Never, ever is it a good idea to transport pigs any substantial distance in the back of your suburban or any other enclosed space with which you may share air with the little beasties.
No amount of tarping or lining will protect your upholstery from the defiles of pig.
But in my hair- brained defense- the hubs had to go get hay which required the use of his truck and trailer necessitating that I transport the pigs and kids. And I really wanted to add pigs to our growing homestead.
The smell was obnoxiously obvious from the moment we all climbed in and the ride home was percolated by the admonishment of little children opposed to the stretch. A trip to remember fa-sure
I expected to get home before the honey, but what I hadn’t thought about was how I was going to get these little, red haired chunkers- squeals, wiggles and all from the back of my car to their pen which lay no less than several hundred feet from the closet point I could park.
Thankfully, Carlos (our farm hand) was about and we managed to get them penned without incident…unless you count trying to skate our way through slick, sticky mud while carrying chunky, wiggling, screaming pigs as incidental…
Just another day in the ole’ life
And just when I thought my day was mostly done save for supper that was waiting to be cooked – I was informed by the hubs that he was running late and might have “rescued” some goats from our hay outfit…
Another fun post for next time…..in the mean time, I ask the powers that Be to have mercy as I tackle the stench that seems irrevocably glued to the carpet in my car.