The Neighbors Call us Crazy

October 21, 2009 
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In our neck of the woods, we are the crazy farmers on the hill. Our pigs run “wild” and are allowed to wallow in our pond, root in the pasture and various other horrible acts that folks didn’t think anything but wild pigs did. I mean after all, pigs were made to live on concrete in a barn right? Our pigs generate a lot of comments from the locals. We rotate them through pastures around our house, primarily to keep them away from the woods and creeks where the wild pigs do roam. I once threatened to turn one of our boars out into the wild to improve the genetics of the local animals but none of ours have actually ever returned to the wild. Well, we did sell some that apparently hit the ground running and were never seen or heard of again, but that wasn’t our fault, so I don’t really count it. The boar I threatened to turn out was Fred. Fred was a good boar and very reproductively minded. He was also by far the most ingenious and determined of our male animals. In case you have never seen a boar up close. Fred weighed about 500lbs and his back stood taller than my waist. On several occasions during the non-breeding season, Fred mysteriously appeared in various pens around the farm. The fence was never torn up, and we never found any holes that he could have crawled under. Very odd indeed. I spent several weeks rounding Fred up and returning him to his pen. Finally, we resorted to a jail cell of which he promptly busted the lock and proceeded to find him a woman or two. After one of his last escapades, I happened to be walking the fence of the pen he had escaped from and noticed that the top of the wire net fencing was slightly bent. Upon closer inspection I discovered tell-tale red hairs. Hmmm, suspicious. Evidently, Fred had learned to climb OVER the fence. What was even more interesting is that he somehow managed to get all 500lbs of himself over without significantly damaging the fence. Upon the mystery being solved as to his seeming magic act of going through fences, Fred was again interred in a jail cell (translation: small pen with very tall fences) with several chains in case he broke one again. Thus my threatening to turn him into the wild. Lo and behold, about four months after his escapades, we had 3 litters of pigs on the farm. Actually it has all turned out for the best as we needed more pigs anyway, but at the time it was quite frustrating to say the least. Had Fred disappeared one day and a large red pig been spotted in the wild, I would have been the first suspect. Fred is now happily living near Corpus Christi with owners who are more understanding of his drive to reproduce at all times and more importantly, have taller electrified fences.

So, the neighbors think we are crazy. We had one whole herd of pigs running in our front pasture this past summer which happens to be right on the highway. I never anticipated the number of interesting comments and curious people we heard from regarding our pigs. Most of them consisted of helpful people informing us that during the day when we weren’t watching, an entire herd of wild pigs was wallowing in our pond. We thanked them kindly and continued to allow this mysterious herd of “wild” pigs to roam our pasture. On more than one occasion, cars stopped on the highway to watch these red “wild” pigs root, run, and eat in the pasture. Apparently they missed the huge red feeders that were conveniently placed in the pasture full of hog feed for the “wild” hogs, but this herd of pigs was quite the neighborhood sensation for the summer. While out feeding the pigs one day on a back field, I had an older gentleman stop and talk to me about our pigs for a while. He actually remembered that pigs used to be raised outside as a matter of course. It was a great conversation hearing stories about when he used to raise pigs and as he drove away, I had the satisfaction of knowing that at least one person in Fannin county didn’t think we were crazy, AND didn’t think our farm was overrun with wild hogs.

Yesterday, I went out to the pigs pasture to make sure they could still get the feed in their feeders—when it has been wet outside the feed tends to get humid and cakes up in the feeders. All of the pigs were around the feeders (about 20 pigs) and I decided to walk down the hill first to check the pasture, fence, etc. before going to the feeders so as not to be overrun by pigs. Two of them spotted me and proceeded to gallop after me screaming at the top of their lungs. Obviously they could not get to the feed and were letting me know. I ignored them and kept walking. Now, the entire herd realizes that I am in their pasture and that I am walking AWAY from the feeders. Mass pandemonium breaks out and they all start running down the hill after me, all screaming. Right at that moment, a truck drives by. They slowed down and crept by to watch the woman calmly walking down a hill with 20 300-400lb screaming pigs chasing her down. Now, all of these pigs are ready for slaughter, and several are beyond ready, meaning that they are quite fat. They have big fat rolls that jiggle between their back legs as they run. So, by the time we had all reached the bottom of the hill, I was ready to walk back up and the pigs were out of breath. By the time I had reached the feeders at the top of the hill, the pigs were all strung out behind me panting. Perfect! I managed to get their feed loosened and ready for them just as the first ones were straggling up the hill. They stopped to catch their breath and dug in. Hmm, as long as I don’t mind the extra trek up the hill and back, and the neighbors watching, I think I have found the perfect way to feed the pigs without getting mauled. Of course, the neighbors already think we’re crazy, so no worries, right?

Ellen