Do Pigs get Moody - Feed them Seaweed

The terrible three with their tails

Lady Lavinia is pregnant again. Not by choice, by accident, thanks to Irish weather. Last May bank holiday it pissed rain all weekend. I woke on the Monday to find the electric fencing lying in a puddle. Lady Lavinia, Laertes and the terrible three all sauntering from the far field to the field behind the house looking for their breakfast. Laertes had a very satisfied, smug expression. He had got his bit. Later we saw him relieving himself. Pigs share so many characteristics with humans....

Well anyway back to the title. Do pigs get moody? I can categorically tell you they do. Lady Lavinia is in one hell of a mood ever since. She's narking at her rapidly growing piglets. She's narking at Laertes. She is even moaning to me. Maybe I should give her seaweed?

I have been following Ireland's Farmers Twitter account since it first started. In fact I was one of the first tweeting farmers. Don't laugh. I told them I wasn't a farmer, more a very, very small smallholder but they weren't deterred. So I did my stint. After that it was taken over by different organisers and each week a different farmer did their week, explaining to the great unwashed what they do. Then one "farmer" who is a very, very big butcher did his week and used it to promote his business (not his farm). Just this week another "farmer" took over to tell us how he raises thousands of pigs.

When any of the great unwashed expressed concern at any of the intensive production methods, the reply was "well we feed seaweed!" Gosh, if only all of life's problems could be solved by eating seaweed.

You dock piglet's tails. Well we feed seaweed.
You keep sows in farrowing crates. Well we feed seaweed (and apple juice.)
The pigs can't root. Well we feed seaweed and they play with a dangling football.
The pigs are always inside. Well we feed seaweed and they have skylights.
The sows are moody. Well we feed seaweed.

Incidentally (what I did learn this week) if you keep more than 80 sows together they won't fight as they don't recognise each other and they don't remember which one pissed them off. Have to say if I was stuffed into a maternity ward with 80 other women I probably wouldn't remember either.

While I have to admit that if pigs have to be raised intensively (inhumanly as far as I am concerned) this system is not the worst. In fact it is probably outstanding in a bad lot. The pigs are raised in purpose built housing with natural light on rubber matting and with Radio Kerry to keep them entertained. That would be torture for me but hey, maybe pigs don't mind bland. The fact that normal pigs and piglets spend probably 80% of their day rooting and nosing about is totally irrelevant here.

Well they are fed seaweed and they have a dangly ball to play with and they can listen to Radio Kerry and they don't get sunburn. The boar was barred off from the sows but he could see them and he had a ball game to amuse him and he could listen to Radio Kerry. Wish that could have done it for Laertes who did his very best to murder me as I kept him from his woman with a strand of electric fencing.

The fact remains that they never get to stick their nose in soil, they never get to eat fresh grass, they never get to wallow, they never get to lie in the sun or get sunburned, they never get to leg it into their house when the heavens open, they never get to watch ESB workers climb poles or delivery lorries trundle down a laneway.

They never get to be pigs.

So you get to buy a €1 chop.........

Pay €4 for a chop that will knock the socks off you with taste, juiciness, flavour, moistness and you know the poor bastard that died to give you this experience had a life.

It's your choice.


Signed:  A Bitter Woman.

The Terrible Three

Look daddy, same as you!

So my first effort at pig breeding is going swimmingly. The piglets are now 12 weeks old and enjoying a lovely outdoor free range existance being fed naturally with barley, organic pig nuts and lots of fruit and vegetables. As well as having access to a large area to run and root and graze.

I am down to the terrible three and believe me they really are terrible. We have Brutus who is a bully and a brute. Literally heaves his brothers out of his way at the trough. He is also a supreme escape artist. He darts between two strands of electric fencing to escape. He has in turn taught Jockser (neck like a jockey's - well you know,) seen here in the picture mounting Redser. If you are not careful at feeding time they will trip you up dashing in front of you and between your legs. Plus they love to slobber you with muck particularly if you run down to feed them before leaving for work. They seem to have the ability to detect clean clothes.

They are still sneaking in to have a quick feed with mum and she, the silly ass allows them. The three of them are almost the same size as she is. She is totally fed up of them.

Redser, Jockser and Brutus

Brutus, Lady Lavinia and Jockser

They loved the warm weather we had recently and spent most of it stretched out. So far they have not taken to wallowing but it won't be long.

I was taken aback at how quickly their daddy Laertes and his brother grew (well gone at this stage) so I decided it was time to cut down to feeding once a day. I want them to reach weight slowly and not pile on the fat. They are understandably not a bit pleased about this and complain loudly every time they see me. Recently though I have been getting sacks of fruit and vegetables and the other day they made short work of figs, avocados, grapes as well as all the other more common stuff. Lots of very satisfied slurping.

Love Redser's "eye makeup"

I am waiting for them to grow a little bit before letting them into a new field as the fencing is slightly higher in it. Not keen on them ducking under it and out onto a busy road. But hopefully in a couple of weeks they will be on a full acre of lush green grass.

Can you imagine how good they will taste?

Operation Weaning

So the final five. Five about to become three. Actually if a friend hadn't bought them this would have happened long ago. But I being a softie and not a hard nosed business woman I agreed to keep them until she organised herself.

Operation Weaning had to commence. Mamma was still full of milk but starting to get narky with the babies. A Croatian who rented a property belong to my ex. had left a very solid, well-built dog house behind. I had mentally ear marked it. My pig house builder agreed that it could be converted for the purpose. He had done so months ago so it was just a question of getting it moved by a tractor with forks.

It was moved on Saturday last and the fencing was extended. The piglets were tempted in with food and were secured. Or so I thought. So far it's been a pantomime. One or two keep risking getting zapped and with blood curdling squeals make the mad dash under the fence. The first morning after the move, they had all made the dash of death and I found them back in with mamma. Last night before I went to bed I could hear lots of commotion but just ignored it. Then when I went down this morning, found one poor soul who hadn't been brave enough and was alone all night in the dog box.

There is a pig behind that snout in the straw

This photo was taken earlier after they had breakfast and went back to bed (in the dog box) for a snooze. I thought to myself, success at last. But only five minutes later three of them skipped back into mamma upon waking.

Now I have mamma in their run but she's too big for the dog box. But at least they are separated from her for most of the day.

However, I wonder should I just give up and let nature take it's course. Especially as just now when I was dropping the fence to tempt the babies back in with food, momma skipped over to freedom and I had a hell of a job to tempt her back even with a bucket. The grass really is greener on the other side of the fence.

I used think horses were a lot of work. They are a walk in the park in comparison to free range pigs who while they hate the electric fence are always willing to take a chance. 

First Sale

Sandwiched between mammy and daddy

So six weeks have literally flown by and today four of the babies left for their new home in Bettystown. I had been dreading this moment. Not because I was sad to see them go, I actually was delighted. Their poor mother is a shadow of her former self and I am pumping feed into her. But I was dreading catching them and risking getting eaten by an angry sow. 

As with everything you worry about, it all went off relatively smoothly in the end. Oh but by golly there was a lot of ear piercing squealing. My son reckoned if a health and safety officer was about, we'd all have had ear muffs on. Add to this the first one caught and put into the back of the straw-filled jeep attempted to jump back out. Thankfully the new owner was deft and caught her mid-air getting zapped by the electric fence in the process.

The second was thrown in and the new owner by now ready and waiting almost decapitated me slamming the door shut.  My son who has the gentle, patient hands of my grandfather caught the next two and slowly (with me screaming move, move, MOVE.....I tend to get a wee bit stressed on these occasions) added them to the boot.

Momma was concerned at her babies' squeals but her love of her grub was a stronger lure. So she left her trough, grunted a bit and acted agitated but then remembered her food. Daddy was just wondering why he had been fenced off again and was unable to rob his misses' grub. The babies by now buried in deep straw murmered a few times and then there was silence.

Paperwork completed, money exchanged and a bit of a chat about feeding and they were off.  Immediately the talk turned to - will we do it again?  I being a bit more cautious said wait until we get the rest sold. I'm keeping three for myself, family members and some friends. And Lady Lavinia needs a bit of a rest now, lolling about in the sun and gaining some weight. But I would be very tempted to buy a Gloucester Old Spot sow and breed her with Laertes. 

Watch this space.

Having fun in the snow

Snow pigs

Laertes, Lady Lavinia and the Little uns

The happy family

Laertes the boar (son of Oldfarm's Polonius) and his misses, Lady Lavinia produced nine lovely, healthy piglets on the 28th January. It was one of the coldest days of the winter so far with snow on the ground. I saw her in the morning briefly before leaving for work as she was dragging in wet, dirty grass into the new house we had moved into the field for her (nesting). It was to be the designated maternity wing. 

We had awful trouble with the last house as neither would sleep in it for days. They actually slept out in the cold rather than go in. This was despite me climbing in to show them it was safe and desperately hoping they wouldn't decide to come in on top of me. But they just looked in at me as if I was mad (which I probably am.)  So I was surprised to see that she accepted the new house so readily. Laertes was much more wary and didn't venture in at all. 

When I got home that day I sneaked down to have a peep. I could see her back and just assumed she was still in labour, so I went to get her some more straw as it was freezing.  When I came back and started to put the straw in, I saw a piglet peep up from behind her. At that point she jumped up and there was a lot of squealing as she blundered about, not being sure where to put her feet down without standing on a baby. But don't worry; those squeals. Even new born they were well able to let her know if she had hurt them.

She started to nose up the straw in a pile around them to keep them warm and then came out for some food and a drink. She was surprisingly relaxed with me being close but I didn't tempt fate and try and get a photo of them until the next day. 

One day old

They reminded me of guinea pigs I had when I was a child who grew to number 24 from two. Their colouring and markings resembling Dolly Mixtures. Lady Lavinia is half Irish Grazer (Tamworth) and a Gloucester Old Spot cross. Laertes has Saddlback, Duroc, Hampshire and Landrace in there so you can see they are a good mix.

Then I was given all the old advice, so much that my head was in a spin. I consulted Oldfarm and was reassured that I did not need to pull their teeth, dock their tails, keep Lady Lavinia in a cage so she wouldn't squash them or carry out any other barbaric practices. I was even told they would need an infra red light. Actually, if I had had one that mightn't have been a bad idea but I'd say mum would have over heated. But no, they are a hardy outdoor breed and when I put my hand in gently on them when they were asleep, they were as warm as toast. She hasn't any cut nipples although she is a bit bemused at my inspecting them when she's eating and she hasn't squashed any. And this is despite her being a new mum.

I separated Laertes for the first few days just by a strand of electric fencing and he was thoroughly miserable and stood looking over it at her and his babies. So when he actually stopped eating I let him in and he just did a lot of sniffing about. He seemed to know what was going on and was very gentle with his babies as they cavourted underneath his 300kg frame. The big softie lies outside the house during the day and then at night quite happily returns to his own house in the next field.

Playing in empty buckets

These piglets are unlikely to see their first birthday as they will probably be ready for slaughter around 8 months or when they reach 75kg. But, they will have a lovely life outside as nature intended, rooting and wallowing and sunbathing and living in a family group. And they will produce the most amazing tasting pork and bacon, the like of which you have probably never tasted before.

If we eat meat then we should raise animals with dignity and respect. They deserve no less.

Buy free range, buy organic, pay a bit more for meat from animals that have had a decent life and haven't been kept in the dark in a concrete shed their entire life prevented from behaving naturally. How can meat from pigs raised like this be healthy?