Prime pork

I spent ages last night holding the trotter of Pam the Mangalitza while she potched around the stable, building a huge mound of straw, demolishing the huge ound of straw, building it back up again, knocking it down, turning over the water trough, rooting up the rubber mats that make the concrete extra cosy. In all she was a pain, moithering around and giving every sign that the end was nigh. Surely, I thought, tonight must be the night.

So as I dozed leaning on the five bar gate at the entrance of the stable I toyed with the idea of going to bed, but Pam would do something more convincing that piglets were about to pop out so I endured the lack of sleep until 12.30 am. Pam settled, nothing was happening. I crept indoors and grabbed an hours kip fully clothed on the sofa. 1.30 am I was back at the gate, Pam was doing her build it up knock it down routines. Disappointed I went back to the sofa, dismissing the idea of getting the sun lounger and sleeping in the stable doorway as going a bit too far.

2.45 am excitement as I found Pam doing something different, she had got her snout through the handle of her feed bowl and was really rather cross. Then she began pawing the ground and making funny noises. This must be it. 3.30 am I was about to give in and she lay down and began grunting, legs going like she was riding an invisible porcine bike. Nil pork delivered despite maximim revolutions. 4am I gave in and went to bed bed. 5.45 am back on duty, curses, still no new additions. So I dawdled through my normal routine hoping to see some action before setting off across the mountains to work in the valley that time forgot. I left at 6.30. Sat at my desk by 8am.

8.05 a phone call from Tracey, my beautiful and oh so patient wife. Guess what has just arrived while you were driving. So after all that I missed the birth of the lil pigs, but the wait was worth it, six lovely little piglets, 2 girls 4 boys. Stable Sprite flew over to reassure all that Pam had finished and all was well. I got home early evening and got my first hands on with our new rare breeds. As I drove back excited at the prospect of meeting the newbies I recalled a bit of advice from one of the local militia, a veteran pig keepers daughter told us that the bestest ever advice her dad had given her about a farrowing sow was to just let them get on with it. Presumably he would advise a pig keeper to sleep as well.