Wednesday, December 10, 2014


The Thanksgiving piglets have not had a good beginning.  Their mom doesn't have much milk at all and they didn't appear to be thriving.  One morning the little girl looked very weak in her back end.  She also looked very skinny.  I gave her a bottle that afternoon, which she seemed to like.  The next morning when I went to check on them I found her dead under the bedding.  I don't know if she was too weak to get out of the way and was crushed or what.  Maybe I shouldn't have given her the goat milk, I don't know.

I was torn about what to do with the little boy, Petey.  I felt maybe I should bring him in the house and bottle feed him because he no longer had someone to snuggle up against and keep warm with during the day.  His mom spends most of her time out grazing so he was alone.  I really hated interfering with him because he looked strong enough and wasn't skinny like his sister.  The past few mornings I held my breath as I approached his pen.  Sometimes just a tiny spot of black would be showing because he was burrowed so deep in the bedding.  I was always relieved when I touched him and he'd snort.  This morning I couldn't find him.  I knew it couldn't be good.  I lifted the grass and gently poked here and there.  No Petey.  I walked around the shed looking for his body.  Could something have eaten him?  Could he have wandered off in the cold and frozen to death?  I quit looking and drove around the field to feed the big pigs on on top of the hill, feeling very disappointed in myself for not bringing him indoors.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature piglet amongst 16 pig ears.  I couldn't believe it. Petey had hiked a very long way to graze with the others.  He'll be 2 weeks old tomorrow.

Look how tiny he is next to his family.   That little red shack you see at the end of the video is where he hiked from; all uphill.

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