Raising Pigs
My first experience with raising pigs started when we bought four little piglets-one for each of our boys. We made a fairly large pig pen off the chicken coop for them. They were supposed to stay there. However, there was one small pig that was able to get out no matter what we did to the fence. He would somehow escape and many times the neighbor about a quarter mile down the road would call and let us know that our pig was exploring at his farm. We finally named him "The Lone Ranger" because he was always getting out. The four pigs reached a size where they could be sold. We sold three of them and put "The Lone Ranger" in the freezer. I must say that we had leaf lard made when he was butchered and it was the most beautiful lard I have ever had. It made wonderful pies and biscuits.
My second experience with raising pigs was when we moved to our second country property and one of my sons decided to have pigs for his 4-H project.We attended a seminar on pigs-pig breeds and how to raise them- and came back with a big Yorkshire sow and a big Yorkshire boar.When it came time for the Yorkshire sow to farrow, I was home alone. I went into the barn to see how she was proceeding and arrived just in time to see her drop the first piglet and turn around and eat it. I was horrified and didn't know what to do! I called the farmer who lived next door,told him what had happened and asked him what to do. He said "Whatever you do, do not get into the pen with the sow! Get a shovel and as she drops the baby pigs, pick them up with a shovel and put them into a bushel basket. After she has had all of them, she will be all right." When the boys got off the school bus, they wondered why I hadn't called them so they could have seen the activity! By the evening, we let the little pigs out of the basket into the sow's pen, and she treated them just fine. One of the fun facts about pigs that amazed me was that as they grew and became more active they would chase each other around and play "king of the hill" just as the baby lambs had done. Somehow I never thought that pigs would play that way. When it came time to send them all to market, Boris the boar, seemed to know what was taking place. The men who came to pick up the pigs for market had a terrible time loading him into the truck. But they finally did. I felt sorry for Boris for I felt that he understood what was going to happen to him.
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