Piglet Time

Springtime is coming on the farm, with baby animals as a sure sign of the changing season. Lately, two of our heritage Kunekune sows have been growing roly-poly, so Agatha and Christi were moved into the south barn for careful monitoring before “farrowing” (because apparently you don’t call it “pigging”).

In the west end of the south barn, the piglets from last May are growing bigger, grunting and snuffling, with curly black-and-white fur. During the day, they trot outside to romp in the receding snowbanks and nuzzle the cool mud. Everyone’s getting itchy for green pastures and frolicking in the warming breeze.

In the middle of the south wing of the barn, Agatha and Christi waited their time, burrowing into the straw and snarfing down the sprouted grain fodder we grow for them in the greenhouse. They’d lay on their sides, stretching, their big bellies twitching from the little ones kicking inside. Goodness that looks uncomfortable!

As their time draws closer, the sows become greedy over their food, “Mine, mine, all of it ALL MINE!!!” They tussle with the chunks of fodder, trotting off to their respected corners to munch in peace. “Humph!”

Christi was the first to farrow. We were at the Creamery when Kara needed to run back to the house to get some extra ingredients from the store room. “Make sure to check on the pigs,” Mom added as Kara was walking out the door. A few minutes later and the phone is paging. “Piglets!” Three were out, with more on the way. Mom threw on her coat and boots and joined the birthing scene. Soon, eight little black-and-white piglets had come into the world, squeaking and squirming. Mom and Kara erected one of the lambing “jugs” (wooden pens) for the mom and her new little ones to stay close together, with a heat lamp to keep them warm.

But one of the piglets was having trouble with its back legs. It’s possible she might have gotten squished on the way out or by momma before Kara could get there, but the back legs just wouldn’t work. On most farms, a piglet with this type of trouble would be given up for lost, but Kara kept working with her, helping her get up to suckle and move about to keep the bowels working.

But oh, Agatha was jealous that Christi went first. She’d come up to the pen and grunt. When Christi would lay down to nurse the piglets, Agatha would lay down too. Restless, she’d walk about, lay down, then get up again. During baby season, we have some cameras set up in the barn to watch the animals from the house. Agatha was the real star of the barn cam station, up and down.

“Surely, she’ll go today,” Kara said at breakfast. We waited, and waited, and waited.

Well, it wasn’t until 3:00 in the morning the next day until Agatha farrowed. Five fat little spotted piglets, all vigorous and healthy. They built a jug across from Christi, so the mommas can still see each other without being able to reach each other. Another heat lamp, and a board in the corner to give the babies a place to snuggle under the light where the sow can’t accidentally squish them in the corner.

For standard-breed sows, often what is used during birthing is a “farrowing crate.” In the recent community uproar over the proposed swine CAFO (confinement animal feeding operation) that wants to move into Bayfield County, the use of farrowing crates has been a contentious issue. They’re not pleasant structures—the sow can’t turn around, can barely lay down, and is not terribly comfortable for the mother.

We’ve helped our neighbor farrow on several occasions, with his standard-breed sows that weigh somewhere around 500 pounds. And as much as I’m not a fan of farrowing crates, for that breed, it’s a necessity! When you’re helping her out on the back end, if she could have turned around, we’d have been dead, or at least horribly maimed.

Our Kunekune sows, however, has a very different disposition. They’re calm at birthing, and more careful when they lay down not to squish all the piglets. The boarded-off corner helps keep the little ones from getting pinned, but that’s all the restraining we use. No need for the farrowing crates on our farm!

Agatha was producing plenty of milk for her five, while Christi was struggling with eight. Kara snitched one of the heartier piglets and snuck her in with the five. Nobody seemed to mind. Having enough food is a real motivator for pigs!

We struggled on with the little one with the leg troubles, helping her get up to eat. As the days progressed, little one was able to twitch one leg, then another, as the swelling in her back decreased. Last night, she could push herself around a little with one leg—real progress!

But as her siblings grew bolder, they began to bully the little girl about, pushing her off of momma. So last night they made her a little home in a Rubbermaid tub with straw under a heat lamp in the farmhouse kitchen. There, she’d be safe and warm and fed on the bottle until she gets her full mobility back and can fend off the bullies.

“Squeee, squeee, squeee!” the little piggy cried.

“Oh dear,” Mom sighed. “How are we going to get any sleep?” Already, for several nights, they’d been up every couple of hours to release the piglets from their warm corner to feed and put them back for safety when the babes were full.

The piglet was lonely, missing her littler mates, even though she was snuggly warm. Then Mom had an idea. “Kara, take an old sock, roll it up into a ball about the size of a piglet, and put that in with her.”

The little girl sidled over to the sock, rested her little piggy head on top, and snuggled down for the duration. Whew! Well, that’s life with the baby animals. Springtime is here, and happy pigs makes happy farmers. See you down on the farm sometime.