Three Is Infinitely More Than Zero

Today was the day I've been looking forward to with eagerness and trepidation: the day to bring the four pigs to the processor. After reading up on the web about how to easily load pigs, Phil had withheld feed yesterday, expecting that they would merrily trip into the cattle trailer when he put the feed in there today. He had set up the trailer, put up the ramp, and laid out the fencing around it, so all would be ready this morning.

But, as we should have expected, nothing goes as easily as it should.

Phil tried to put a bucket over the head of one and back it into the trailer. No go. He tried enticing. No way. It was impossible.

So next Phil go the chainsaw, cut down the little trees and brush near the trailer, and then put up cattle panels around the pen, trying to make a secure holding area, where we could do a better job forcing the pigs into the trailer.

We got the pigs most of the way in, and then they pushed their way out. We tried again. The second time, we actually had all four pigs in the pen, and Phil got them totally wired in, secured with strong T-posts every few feet. It seemed impermeable, but how to get the pigs onto the ramp?

I was going to get smaller sections of cattle panels, and a pallet, in order to push the pigs, when Charles rooted underneath strongly enough to actually escape. I am happy I didn't see it, but I heard Phil's cry, and I met him a few minutes later. He said, "I'm done! When I wanted to start punching and kicking the two escaping pigs, I decided I needed to be done for now, so I let the other two go, too."

That was 11:30am. We took a break, and tried again, but we couldn't even get the pigs near the pen in two laps, and they showed no interest in food or drink, only in sleep, so we gave up for the time. Phil called the processor, and they said, "You aren't the only one today. The pigs just aren't loading."

Which made us feel a little better, but not much.

Although my feet were not painful any more (I only had one blister from the burn, and it was so little painful, I at first thought it was a poison ivy patch!), I had been jabbed badly by a pig, and have a raised bruise on my leg about two inches long from the first encounter with the pigs. Ouch!

Oh—and I got to hold a piglet. It had been mashed between two of the bigger pigs, so I grabbed it. It felt like a brick: very, very solid. It wasn't cuddly at all. So much for Charlotte's Wilbur.

In the evening, Phil went back to the pigs. He had read that some load pigs at night because it's cooler and the pigs aren't as freaked out. In short order, he corralled three pigs (not Charles, who had forced his way out this morning and was much more chary than the others; we had already decided that if we could get three, we'd settle for that). Those three were pretty hungry and thirsty, and with some enticing, and one pig that loaded, bolted, and loaded again, we have three pigs in the trailer as of 8pm.

We need to get the tractor's tire fixed, and get the tractor hooked up to the trailer. After the tractor pulls the trailer uphill, we need to hook the trailer to the truck, and then drive the truck up to the processor. We have until tomorrow, 9am. But with three pigs loaded, infinitely more than the zero we had at 7pm, we are determined.