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