If you didn’t get that movie quote reference you didn’t grow up in the 90’s and it shows.😆

But pop culture aside, how did I end up having hot flashes on the hottest days of the year, covered in curdled milk replacer and sweating through three t-shirts a day?

I'm so glad you asked...

A year ago our oldest nephew Easton, decided he wanted to follow his "Uncle 'Drew and Aunt Charlie" into the pig-rearing business.  

He used his own money, bought a gilt from us, bred her, had his first litter, sold them for good money (he’s 13!) and decided -- dang, that was fun, let's do it again.  

Only this time, we bred her to have pigs in the middle of June so she could be re-bred in time to make next  year's show pigs (typically bred in the fall).  

Andrew and I bred our gilt, Ruby, so they’d have pigs at the same time. Typically pigs do better in the farrowing crates when they're not by themselves.  We figured it’d be a win-win.

Until it wasn’t. 

For Easton's sow, all went well at first - no issues delivering the piglets (she had 9 live, one stillborn), and she started milking them like she always does.  

Awesome. 

Then came Ruby's turn.  

With a first-time mom, you never know what you're going to get.  

They often labor longer, the piglets tend to have a harder time coming out as things aren't as "loose" in there, she might decide she doesn't want to do this "mom" thing and eat them as soon as they wander up to her head to introduce themselves (yes, this happens and it's not abnormal) etc.  

Easton's sow, Tug, gave birth late Wednesday evening.  On Friday afternoon, Ruby started showing signs of labor: leaking some fluid behind, squirting a bit of milk, pawing at the ground, just generally uncomfortable but not distressed. 

We stayed at the barn for a few hours to watch her, thinking that a piglet would appear soon.  

Negative. 

We went home to grab a quick microwave dinner, then came back thinking SURELY we'd find some baby pigs in her crate.  

There was one. 

Ok....not ideal (ie. we're not getting any sleep tonight), but not time to panic yet. 

Panic came the next day when she still only had one piglet and passed a tiny bit of afterbirth.   

By this point she'd been in labor for about 12 hours.  We knew any piglets still in there were likely dead at this point.  Now it was a matter of getting the other "stuff" out before it broke down inside her and caused sepsis.  

So we gave her some antibiotics to help her fight the inevitable infection she'd get, and waited some more.  

Two more days passed - no more piglets, no more afterbirth. 

To date, our smallest litter so far has been two piglets. We can now proudly say we have beaten that illustrious record.

Ruby was still drinking, but not eating, and no longer contracting or pushing.  Her lone piglet was wandering from nipple to nipple, never staying on one for long, which told us she probably wasn't making much milk. Not surprising when her body knew it only had to feed one baby.  

Adding to the situation, temperatures soared to over 110-degrees Fahrenheit (43 celsius).  

By this point, Tug had lost 2 of her piglets (not uncommon to lose a couple each litter), and we noticed that the remaining 7 looked a bit listless and less plump. 

Truth is -- when it gets this hot, animals go into survival mode.  In terms of how energy is utilized in the body the hierarchy is: maintenance, lactation, growth and reproduction. Meaning, the more stress on the body, the more nutritional demands it has (like feeding young).

The first thing to go is her ability to get pregnant again - because it's not necessary to her survival.  Then goes growth or her existing body condition, next her milk will start drying up, and finally, her ability to maintain weight and basic functions to survive will be the priority.

Even on free feed (ie. as much food as they will eat), the sows were struggling to meet the lactation need due to them still feeling a bit off from delivery, combined with the excess heat.  

On Monday night, we got to the barn and I knew instantly it wasn't good. 

The singleton pig was standing up but he was extremely listless.  Ears drooped forward, head hanging down to the point his nose was in the shavings, not moving. I told Andrew he wasn't making it through the night if we didn't get some nutrition into him. 

Now look, as cute as it seems on your social media feed, no farmer wants bottle babies.  

Not because we don't love taking care of our animals, but because it adds a lot more work to already overflowing plates.  Plus, it’s not natural. Little piglets need fed every 2-3 hours in order to get enough nutrition to sustain themselves.  Ideally, you leave this up to mom.

Andrew was less than thrilled about the prospect of round-the-clock feedings.  But being the big softie he is, he let me drive home, grab the baby bottle and try to get “Mr. Pig” as I started calling him, to nurse off it.

(It's a reference from Disney's The Lion King - when Pumba becomes incensed when the hyenas call him a pig. Legendary movie - you can't convince me otherwise.)

After a few lessons in patience (animals are PROS at teaching you this by the way) I got the little guy to take the bottle, and the next day he was much more alert. 

Because pigs are incredibly intelligent animals, soon Mr. Pig was trained to what I call our "Chinese sow" (because it's built to imitate a sow's teats and comes from good ole' Amazon). 

As of today, I'm happy to report he's a chunky monkey and will be started on pig starter feed real soon.  He even got a roommate once we moved his mom back out to her big pen. Another bottle baby from Tug’s litter.

He didn’t get the ideal start in life, but sometimes that’s just the cards were dealt. What we choose to do with them is what makes all the difference.

He’s proven he’s a tough little bugger and barring any unforeseen circumstances, is going to be just fine!  He now squeals every time I walk in the farrowing house because he knows he's going to get a bottle and a good scratch behind the ears.

Look, I don’t know if he’ll turn out to be a grand champion show pig or not.

It honestly doesn’t matter.

All I know is that these animals teach me way more than I do them.

I’m so proud of Mr. Pig and hope he continues giving the little piggy finger to all the obstacles thrown his way.

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