Kunekune Adventures

Yesterday was a big day in the life of our heritage Kunekune pigs—a furry, grazing breed originally from New Zealand. Our third round of piglet litters (all creamy white or black-and-white spotted) had grown plenty big and chunky, and it was time for weaning.

The sows Tilly and Deloris were ready to be free of the needy responsibilities of tending the rambunctious ones and gladly followed a bucket of grain and a waving garden shark (overgrown zucchini) across the barnyard and up the hill to a fresh paddock of grasses and volunteer pumpkin vines. The ladies rooted about, enjoying their freedom from the barn, crunching and munching on the small, green pumpkins like they were nuggets of candy nestled in the grass.

Meanwhile, the little ones raced in circles, chasing each other about in the pen behind the barn while we cleaned out all the old, fragrant bedding and brought in fresh wood shavings for their lounging leisure. The makeover meant new dishes for feeding out piggy dinners, fresh water troughs, and more overgrown zucchinis to be devoured as if attacked by hungry, pig-shaped piranhas.

Outside the barn, in their romping pen, there’s plenty to look at. Next door, the ewes (mother sheep) pass by on their way in and out of pasture or when they line up at the gate for milking. Lambs gambole and play, making plenty of lamby noises if they think that supper is near or one finds itself alone and, in the panic of the moment, forgets the location of the gate. “Oh no, oh no!” cries the sheep in pathetic baaahs. “How do I get out?”

Out in the west field, the bigger pigs rotate through the paddocks, mowing down the grass in one before being released into the second. With the past hot weather, we even fenced in some of the woods between the paddocks and the Red Barn so it was easier for them to find cool shade. The nine rascally teenaged pigs wander through their woodland paths from night-time house to the water troughs, beneath the basswood, balsam, and oak trees. Won’t they be excited come fall when the acorns drop! Yum, yum.

The second round of piglets, like a bunch of curious but shy grade schoolers, were finally ready to leave the shelter of the Red Barn and join the crew of the forest. But the outside world was new and a bit scary, though grass was certainly yummy. They huddled together, curious but timid, and we tapped on their little bristly behinds to get them to move forward. It was a brave new world out there in the pasture and the forest, who knew what adventure might lie ahead for a piglet.

Food is always a good motivator for a pig, and Mom shook the feed bucket and rattled the scoop. The older and bigger piggy cousins grunted and snuffled, picking up the alfalfa pellets and oats from the grass. It didn’t take long for the younger crew to learn the trick, and soon the tussling began. One whiter pig with black spots, like a rotund Dalmatian, dealt his piggish personality on the others with greedy pushing and shoving.

“Mine, mine, all mine!”

“No you don’t, it’s all mine!” squealed a darker one, and then the wrestling began with the grabbing of ears and the wattles that dangle below their chin. The tussle was so consuming, the two pushed and shoved all the way to the woods (far from the others who happily ate up the food while the bullies were away) and back again up to the electric fence.

“Squeee!” the fence bites as the pigs smash into it. Lesson one for the new pigs in the pasture: don’t touch the fence. They’ll try it a few more times during the afternoon, but pigs are smart and it won’t take them long to learn not to challenge the seemingly lightweight fence.

Eventually, one of the bigger pigs came and broke up the squabble, half laying on the light-colored bully. “There you two, that’s enough of that.” Totally deflated, the naughty youngling retreated to the back of the pack and snuffled through the grass with a wayward eye out for the police pig.

That night, still unsure of the territory, the pack of younger pigs huddle together, ears poking out like bristly tulip petals. The night was a little chilly, but that’s what pig piles are for, all snuggled in one big lump of black and white, right on top of where Mom had poured the feed the night before. If that was where breakfast was going to land, at least they wouldn’t miss it!

This morning, they’re investigating with confidence, exploring the various nooks of their new world. The weaned mommas seem to think that they’re on holiday, with no responsibilities but to lounge and munch. The piglets in the barn romp in and out, sniffing noses with the curious sheep, and the bigger piglets seem to tolerate their new comrades fairly well (though we’re still working on the co-mingling part).

I haven’t told them yet that yesterday, I picked a whole bin full of those zucchini garden sharks. But then, if those Kunekune pigs knew what all the adventures would be in advance, it wouldn’t be half as fun for them! See you down on the farm sometime.