We have reached the point where pigs are an essential part of our lives, except in the winter when they would be so sad here. When we don't have pigs, we just end up feeding the crows and the squirrels -- not nearly as satisfying. They just pick out the bits they want from the compost pile and leave a big, spread out mess. We are trained never to throw away kitchen scraps or outdated food, and the pigs are enthusiastic about their role in waste management.
It all started maybe 20 years ago when I decided I wanted a few pigs. My father never wanted to keep pigs because they are so smart, and it hurt his heart to keep them in a pen and treat them like they weren't that smart. None of us ever had an issue with eating animals if they were part of our lives, but somehow he drew the line at offering pigs a life that was less than they deserved.
I guess all animals deserve to be allowed to run around and forage -- like deer and groundhogs and rabbits and all the other creatures that are the bane of my existence. But there is certainly a category of animals who live within fences or in pens in order to be the ones that we eventually eat.
Our pigs only come to visit. They come as recently-weaned piglets and they stay for a season of digging in the mud, eating mountains of vegetables,receiving lots of visits from friends and neighbors bringing kitchen scraps, and wholesome grain every day. I called it the Peter Pan Pig Spa because they never grow old here. They live a charmed life. Well, if it rains too much, the charm wears off because their pen gets very muddy and it takes a long time to dry out.
This spring we got two pigs that were more mature than usual, but Bev (the pig farmer) brought them because they were extremely friendly and they seemed just right for us. They were brothers and he wanted them to grow up with good habits, not turning into competitive, nasty boars because he wanted them to be breeders. Like all the pigs he brings, they had never seen a vegetable. They had lived in straw, on concrete, and they didn't know anything about Swiss chard or fruit. They had never dug up a compost pile with their snouts.
It always takes the pigs a few days to learn about their new opportunities. They do start to dig and root as soon as they get out of the trailer, which is kind of amazing. Bev switched out the pigs a couple of days ago, bringing some smaller cuties, and they put their snouts down into the dirt immediately. This is an essential activity for pigs. Bev is trying to breed a more environmentally friendly pig with a shorter snout and less capacity for digging up trees -- they like to live in the shade in the woods. For years he was working on a lean pig with a long snout but he has changed his priorities and the pigs are stubby and short, like overgrown guinea pigs now.
The reason we can't live without pigs is they are so important to our kitchen and farm. We don't have to throw anything away anymore. They eat almost everything, with gusto. They prefer cooked foods for sure, and people food is their favorite. They stomp all over things that they are tired of or don't want (the last pigs would not even take a bite of an uncooked summer squash), but they learn to eat whatever is in season. There is a limit to how many tomatoes they will happily eat, but if they get hungry enough between snacks, they eventually clean their plate. It is so deeply satisfying to take outdated leftovers out of the fridge and take them to the piggies. It is hard to describe how disorienting it is to be without pigs, when they have to go home in late November. Throwing away food feels so terrible. How do most people exist without pigs?
People always ask us what the names are. We used to name them, but after 20-plus years of little pigs, it seems unnecessary. They have personalities, they are unique and delightful, but they don't actually need names since they are going home in a few months. Everyone names them whatever they want. Kids love to name them.
Our goal is to socialize these little pigs enough that they are eligible to be bred, rather than raising them to be eaten. They are still part of the meat-producing process, but our pigs have the chance to have a longer and more interesting life. Bev sends me pictures of the baby pigs when we successfully produce mama pigs.
Bev freaks out if they get out, and there was one memorable adventure (described in July 2023 in this blog). The reason he gets so upset is that once pigs learn that they can get out, they have new information and they will never stop trying to figure out how to get out again. He came and whisked away the renegades within days. He didn't like it that someone called the police when pigs were seen walking along the side of the highway. Fair.
Rebecca has said for years that I like the pigs more than my own children. There is no comparison. Just because I make sure the pigs are fed everyday and I delight in their antics -- they are definitely not my children. Rebecca is just jealous because she thinks I am more attentive to the pigs than I was as a mother. So untrue. But I am very aware of the hazards of letting the pigs get too hungry. Bad things can happen. When my kids got hungry, they could just solve their own problems.
I don't know of anyone else who has a program like this, but it is worth replicating. I always think that every neighborhood or sprawling development should have a couple of little pigs so that everyone can be part of this satisfying system. You don't ever have to eat them, you don't have to name them, you just get to feed them and see how happy they are to eat whatever you have. There could be pig farmers who switch out the pigs every few months so no one has to deal with the 300 pound version. That is a whole different game, and not the one I like to play.
