More on death
The guy turned up to slash the paddocks early one Sunday morning. Having fully embraced country life we were already out of bed. He’d noticed Freckles acting peculiar. He called the Lovely Deputy outside and they found the pig convulsing. By the time I got there she was dead. Googling sudden pig deaths has not shed any light on the matter and we were left a little worse for wear for losing a pig and thinking she’d experienced discomfort. Later that day, the Lovely Deputy peered into the cage of hatchlings and mused that at least we hadn’t lost any of the chicks.
‘Oh’, he sighed, ‘I’ve spoken too soon. One of them looks like a carpet.’
I arrived home a few days later and saw the surviving pig lying weirdly in the mud and completely freaked out, started yelling ‘PIG! PIG! PIG!’ She didn’t appreciate being woken from her sleep.
The day arrived when Rosie the cow was due home. I’d bought celebratory bread treats. I was sure there would be tears when mother and calf were reunited after their six weeks separation. I had my iPhone ready to capture the moment. It didn’t go according to plan. Rosie liked Farmer Paul’s house and his small cattle posse. She’d jumped a fence to avoid coming home.
By the time she arrived at #Blissfarm she was rattled and doing her best to buck her way off the trailer. Farmer Paul and the Lovely Deputy were rattled dealing with her. I threw the iPhone down and ran to open gates to prevent any more jumping. When united, Rosie and Lil Belts sniffed each other like they were strangers and Rosie didn’t much appreciate Lil Belt’s attempts at bulling her. It was an anti-climax.
It’s lovely to see them now grazing in the paddock together and it’s great to have her home.
There is a season, turn, turn
On Monday night the pump blew up, on Tuesday I worked from home so I could meet the guy with the giant fans and the plumber. I also needed a shower because I’d gone for a run the afternoon the pump blew, but that’s another story.
I was typing away at my computer when I heard an almighty bleating. I stood up to see Auburn dashing across the paddocks, four kids at her heels and Webster bringing up the rear. Auburn squeezed herself in the few centimetres between the fence and the outside bath. Webster tried to get in behind her and I caught him literally trying to kiss her. I could hear Barry White crooning, ‘Can’t get enough of your love baby.’
I chased him across the paddock crying. Just to clarify, he was crying not me. That was the icing on the cake. Earlier that morning all the goats had breached the orchard and eaten the plum and apple trees and dug up the potatoes. The Lovely Deputy was threatening to get out of goats. I was pleading for us to keep the babies we had made ourselves.
Webster went straight onto Gumtree. A few days later I put him on the buy, sell or swap page at work. He was gone in an hour. We took him to Glen and Phyllis’ home in Brighton where he has two new does to have fun with.
During the next week we had a gaol break. I came home to find Auburn and one kid, Spot, standing on the other side of our fence. When I went down to call her she gave me the bird and walked into the neighbour’s yard with Spot causing the other kid, Junior, to go mad and find a way to join her.
The neighbour helped wrangle them back and they proceed to go absolutely crazy climbing into unchartered garden areas. They subsequently spent a few days in the sty, nonplussed and narrowly avoiding the pig’s teeth. Thinking they’d learnt their lesson we set them free and they behaved for just under a week until they breached the fence again. We don’t know whether Webster kept them in order or with the slashed paddocks there is less food for them. I’ve had to admit defeat and agreed it’s time for them to go.
We’ve found a home for the five of them in Dover where they’ll be lawnmowers within an electric fence. We started to wean the two we’ve been bottle-feeding. In the spirit of Kubler Ross, I started to bargain with The Lovely Deputy. We should send the others and make sure our two kids were weaned. They hadn’t done anything wrong, they weren’t jumping the fence. It was Auburn and her kids with the bad behaviours. Maybe we should keep ours a little longer like planned. If they stayed in the paddock we could keep them until they were big enough for meat. Couldn’t we??? Baybeeeeeeeee….
Sitting outside the front door this morning watching them, they threw themselves at the fence and on to the patio. Then they did a repeat performance.
This afternoon they were all packaged off to Dover.
Since then I’ve been walking around the house crying asking if The Lovely Deputy loved the kids as much as me and if I was a good enough mother.
Like he reminds me, I’m premenstrual.
This too will pass.
It’s been a tremendous experience caring for the kids.
What adventures will #Blissfarm bring us next?
For more on #Blissfarm read Animoolz and Humans #3. You’ll find links to other posts too.