This post is a post of hope, a post of beginnings and a post of possibility. Yesterday, we set out on a journey to collect some breeding stock of Red Wattle pigs. I want to start out by explaining our choice in Red Wattle.
When we first started out raising pigs (spring 2012) we were fearful. All we had heard about pigs was that they were mean, would jump at the fences to be fed, and if you went in there you were dinner. I have one thing to say about that. HOGWASH! It all depends on how you are raising them.
When Mr. Hogsquash and I set out to find a breed of pig we wanted to raise, we instantly said it had to be a heritage breed. The next item on the list was docile, the pigs had to be docile. Besides raising animals our first priority is raising our family, and if there is anything that threatens the safety of that, then that thing is not welcome on our property.
Anywho, while researching we learned that the Red Wattle Pig is on the critically endangered breed list. Which means there are not many registered breeding pairs. In our herd, also known as a sounder, we have one registered boar. We cannot register our others because there have been to many "steps" since the last registered parent. Which we are fine with. Preserving the breed goes much farther than just having pigs have babies. You need to select the piglets that stand out, the ones that have the traits you want and the ones that grow well.
So we started on this journey around 10 am on Friday morning. We knew we would have to make two trips but we had no idea how unbearably long the trip would be. It took us a total of 26 hours to get all 10 pigs home. We drove and drove and drove and drove.
It would be our luck that the piggies didn't want anything to do with our contraption of a "delivery" truck. Finally, after much persuasion the boar, Baldwin, and the mama, (well, we haven't thought of a better name for her, so her name is mama) got reluctantly into the truck. Now we just had to capture the babies. That was another interesting attempt at "ring around the rosie".
Before we could get the piglets we had to have something to put them in. We were originally going to bring our own "Pet Taxi". But because we were in a hurry and didn't make a list, it was forgotten. Luckily, the kind people we were purchasing the pigs from let us take their "Pet Taxi" home and bring it back when we came the second time. The only problem was that we needed to find it. So we went looking and as soon as I spotted it, I felt something heavy land in my hair. But again with luck being ever so willingly on our side, (notice the sarcasm) I was stung in the index finger. Okay, I was totally freaked by now, not only had we just "wrestled" to get a 650 pound boar into the back our our truck, I was now stung in the finger and as far we knew I was allergic.
My mind was a whirlwind of emotions. And I was still pumped full of adrenaline from just the sight and size of Baldwin. "Great, this is just great. Don't panic! Oh there is a stinger. Flick it out! Wait, it is pulsating. Weird. Sara don't be stupid, flick the stinger out. Am I going to die?" these thoughts flooded my head as informed my hubby that I was stung by what had appeared by a honey bee. He ran to me and quicker than I could hand him my finger, sucked out the venom. The thought of that was gross. We got the piglets rounded up and made a quick run to the local Wal-mart. I got some Benadryl and some cortisone cream, (yes, I know it is totally unlike me to go to conventional medicine, but hey give me a break. As far as we knew I was allergic, from my past reaction.) I went in was relieved to find the pharmacy section so close. I also was relieved that Ike had been stung recently and I knew what to get. However, I did have to have a bit of a crunchy side shine through as I reached for the most natural cream possible. Anyway, I got back to the truck and took the pills and applied the cream, while Ike ran in and got about 60 pound of Ice to dump on the pigs. It was almost 100 degrees and those pigs were hot.
So we went on our way. We still had a 4 hour drive home. Everything else was pretty uneventful. Until we got home. We had to notch the babies ears. So we did that and thought about calling it a night. But we needed to get the other 3 sows. So it was another 4 hour drive there. We were falling a sleep as it was but this would be the life changer of a trip that would determine our path as a farm/CSA. So we went back to it. This time our son would accompany us.
It was now about 1:30 AM and we rolled into a truck stop to get some food as a little pick me up. Once we ate we left again with the intentions of making it all the way to the man's farm. Getting there was hard. We were lucky and had a guardian angel guiding us. There were too many times where the truck lingered past our guiding lines. We made it there though. So that was a major blessing.
The ride home would be different. We had a great drive back home and were determined to stop and get some rest. Once on the highway we searched and searched for the safest looking exit. For about 30 miles there were none. I mean none. Our son was with us, we were NOT going to fall asleep just anywhere. We made it to this one stop at about 6:30 AM. Ike went in and asked if there was any place we could sleep that was safe. The man at the counter told us to pull around back and no one would bother us there.
It was right under a light so that made me feel safer. I wasn't worried about us. Ike and I can take care of ourselves. But I wanted to be sure our son was safe. I wasn't worried about the pigs either, if anyone is going to mess with 3 ornery sows crammed in the back of a pickup, the more power to them. That takes guts.
Anyway, we made it home with a few close calls, one where the steering wheel was jerked from Ike's hands and back into our lane. All I can say is I am so grateful we had a watchful eye and guiding hands looking out for us. If we didn't have an angel watching over us I don't know if we would have made it back.
I am glad the piggies are all home, safe, and happy.
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