Pig of a day...or Rocky saves the bacon

As predicted, and lets face it it was an easy prediction, today did not pan out as planned. Aside from the fact that Hetty steadfastly refuses to jettison her cargo, lots of huffing and puffing but no beef. As we were due to head up north to visit my folks an executive decision was made that I would go with little t, have a nice lunch and head back by tea time, my beautiful and oh so patient wife meanwhile would have manned the fort and if needed played midwife to the lazy bovine. Tracey also drew the short straw and did the night shift checking on the cow as I had a long drive, it was tough but I managed to sleep soundly ready for mine and the apprentice smallholders road trip.

Dawn broke, an hour sooner than yesterday thanks to the clocks re setting to summer time and the morning routine got muddled through. Now I have to be honest at this point as I shut the cottage door behind me and took the first breath of the morning air. I did think, everso briefly that Tracey might like to do the morning routine while I drove off for a free lunch. Being the gentleman and knowing the pain that would be inflicted if I suggested the same I fetched and carried rations to beasts.

While I was feeding the sheep, pigs and sheep-pigs Rocky stood pointer style looking into the pig pen. Eventually even yours truly took the hint that something had got the super canines attention. I stood behind him and followed his gaze. My first thought was several swearwords and look at the size of that rat! Followed by (once the how do I kill it with a bucket of feed whimsy evaporated) its not a rat its a bird its a mangy rabbit its a piglet. Oh my God its a piglet! Then, how on earth is there a piglet here, now. Yes the Bershires Guinevere and Morgana are supposed to be pregnant but not due til May time. The Mangalitzas had only just got acquainted with Thor. I looked across at the Berkshires chomping through breakfast, Morgana had blood on her and a stretched moneybox (moneybox is the pig equivalent of a sheeps tuppence) she was a mum. Trouble was she had obviously forgotten.

So to cut several hours of drama, building, disappointing my parents, chasing pigs up and down the lane into a few lines, eventually a makeshift pig pen was made out of pallets, string, some four inch screws and hope. By 4pm all piglets were feeding and mum was lying down. Unfortunately the last pic shows a piglet behind mum and she squished it just after, so we are down to seven Berkalitza piglets, all fantastically marked cute non pets.

So current scores are Quail 2 (one died) Pigs 7 and Cow 0. We are expecting more effort from cow but the pigs are going to win as at least two others are pregnant.

All this meant that I had to apologise to Thor, who's sexuality I questioned given his fixation on boy ponies. He is it seems the SAS of the pig world, able to get in and out without anyone noticing.

Day 25 30 30 lvl 12 outdoor training 13.2 km (American Idiot, Green Day)

Stop Gap

We are used to a certain level of mayhem at Rock HQ, some animal inspired, other at our creation (usually mine) but today for some two hours chaos reigned supreme. All thanks to Thor the Boar.

After yesterdays debacle where he climbed out of the new pig pen where the beds were soft, girls aplenty and food twice a day, in preference to standing under his beau, Apollo the Gypsy Cob, plan B was put into action.

Plan B entailed putting him back in the pig pen and then watching to see his favoured exit, heading him off and putting a robust obstacle in the way.

Sorted.

The magic blue bucket of food was summonsed, the door to solitary confinement opened and what should have happened is Thor follow bucket and Plan B enacted.

What actually happened was Thor ran straight to his not so secret entrance to Corral OK, shoved his way through a ring feeder and began courting Apollo. William, the Welsh Cob took exception to the sudden appearance of pork and while I tried to work out why the allure of the blue bucket failed, he began to make life threatening Kung Fu moves on the randy pig.

Thus began a race up and down the runway with Apollo being chased by Thor being chased by William while Hetty tried to hide on to of the muck heap.

Kayleigh the agoraphobic goat had all her worst fears about outside confirmed when she stuck her head out of her stall to see where her breakfast bearer had got to and saw the above menage a trois hitting her gate at full speed. She bolted before the earth moved, William fell on his backside, Apollo and Thor made the return journey just in time for the magic blue bucket, gripped by yours truly, to regain its former allure and within seconds bucket lay abandoned (ungripped) on floor as cow, pig and two crazy horses claimed ownership.

Drastic action was required to bring some form of order the chaos, Apollo was to be the sacrifice, plan being that he would be led from food scrummage, Thor would see the love of his life departing and dutifully follow and at some point be persuaded to join the waiting sows.

This might have worked had it not been for Apollo's desire for freedom rather than pork and once in the yard bolted down the lane with the amorous sausage factory in pursuit. William watched Apollo disappear and threatened to join him but was persuaded to stay by my beautiful and oh so patient wife's voice of absolute authority.

Just as fast as Apollo disappeared he returned, the cause of his velocity immediately apparent, Trevor the pocket rocket hanging on his tail. As they careered along the lane William redoubled his efforts to escape and at one point had his front hooves over the five bar gate. Chester safe in the stable began to kick the door, add to this the sound of the magnificent seven barking encouragement you might begin to understand why I had a SOHF.

Thor was now oblivious to the equine carnage at one end of the plot and somehow I managed to get him in with the girls. Apollo trundled past, slower now and was halted by grabbing a handful of mane and some veiled threats, he was happy to go back to the Corral OK.

Trevor was happy that no ponies bigger than him were roaming free.

Pulse rates began to return to normal, I got the necessary tools to sort the pig pen and order was in the process of being restored.

Despair took on a whole new meaning as Thor, having been in with the girls hardly long enough for a coffee yet alone form a meaningful relationship, was now back in the lane and hell bent on finding his pony.

I wont go on, but imagine more of the above but with much more swearing and threats to fetch the gun until finally after an hour and forty five minutes a very sulky boar was "persuaded" to get back in with the sows.

This time no chances were taken, Tracey stood guard while I ran (well sort of, a quick walk) to get the fencing tools. In the time it took he was out again, but this time his secret was revealed, he doesn't climb five bar gates, not completely, on two of the gates that make up the pen, the spacing in the top bars is everso slightly wider than the other four, so pig climbs up, pokes head through and then slithers through the just wide enough gap flopping on the floor the other side, he then climbs out over the stock fence.

Several planks of wood hastily nailed into the gap and the boring boar was/is contained. He is now sulking, but at least he is where he should be and not sausages (yet!).

And we were only two hours late to a lovely lunch cooked for us by a very good friend who also gave us some runner ducks to come home with. And a cake for little t, and toys for little t, and lots of happy memories.

Day 4 30 30 lvl 10 endurance hill 12.1 km (Regatta de Blanc, The Police)

Its a dirty job

Our Mangalitza Boar, Thor, has been causing problems today, over and above the ones he usually causes that is. The horse bothering confused porker has been in solitary confinement with a selection of back issues of Practical Pig Keeping is an effort to cure him of his horse fixation and get him interested in making bacon.

As he can climb a stock fence the plan was that he should be confined in the small pig pen that is fenced off by five bar gates. To do this the almost barn had to be sectioned off and the wall that was knocked down around Christmas restored. This was fairly straightforward, I found an old five bar gate and used one of the three foot field gates to halve the barn and a sheet of corrugated tin from when we demolished the old lean to to repair the wall. After half of the allotted time the pig pen was finished, a five bar gate high secure metal enclosure.

Thor was installed having been found trying to drag a ladder in (only he knows why) to solitary. Pam and Bridget did the squealing with delight thing again as the boar strutted his stuff around the pen.

I left them to it, confident that all would be well, Thor would know what to do.

I got on with the next dirty job, unblocking the drain, our septic tank was emptied earlier in the week but we were still under threat from aggressive number twos who were refusing to let water flow freely. Sometimes smallholding is such joy.

Finally after being rewarded by the sound of running water several hundred feet away I coiled up the plastic pipework that I had used to clear the blockage and put it away ready for next time. A successful day. Except for a large Mangalitza Boar chasing horses around the Corral OK. He can climb 5 bar gates as well as fences.

He is back in solitary.

Without the ladder.

Day 3 30 30 Lvl 14 Hill 12.6 km (Permission to Land, The Darkness)

Piggy in the middle

The boys were making the most of the new hayledge, evenly spaced out, but look closely and you will see Thor the Bernese Mountain Pig tucking in. Watching from the heights is Hetty, climbing is part of her keep fit regime, it also means she avoids the concrete. You might also spot the well hung gate.

Filthy Pig!

Thor the Boar of questionable sexuality was persuaded to vacate the med bay and visit the ladies in the pig pen. It has to be said he took to the role with some enthusiasm this time and Bridget helped by standing for him. Another secret of animal husbandry was discovered while Thor was making bacon, and that is the peculiar shape of a male pigs bits, like something out a science fiction film, Ridley Scotts Alien chest burster would be preferable than being faced with Thor's weapon of choice. Still Bridget seemed happy enough and again I was hoping that now he had sampled the delights of the pig pen he would stay.


He did stay long enough to get really filthy, and I do mean in the physical coated in mud sense. He seemed to enjoy this, shaking himself like a dog and then rolling around again, perhaps its the pork equivalent of a cold shower, whatever it was he rendered himself unapproachable by any creature with a sense of smell. Finally, happy with his new look he bade farewell to Bridget and climbed the fence.

Pausing only to steal some of the Ryelands second breakfast he set off to bother the horses, investigate Kayleigh, bother Hetty and rub as much mud over as many surfaces as possible. Happy his work was done he slunk off back to med bay where he gathered his straw in a pile and fell asleep. Nice work if you can get it.

Dont frighten the horses!

There were several points today where activities could have descended into chaos. Observers watching a fat bloke "running" up and down the lane being either the chaser or chasee of pigs might argue the toss and say it had but at the end of play I am happy with the results of our honest labours.

Kayleigh and Kurry were moved from the plush interior of the stables to the new goat house at the end of the kennel block. This entails fencing off 12 feet of the concrete runway with a nice shiny metal gate giving Kayleigh the agoraphobic Anglo Nubian a nice sun terrace. Once installed in new quarters she spent most of her time leaning against the walls complaining the sky was falling in or hiding behind the hay rack as the horses were looking at her in a funny way. Kurry took it all in his stride and danced around in a highly entertaining way oblivious to his mothers phobias.

The newly purchased hurdles formed a barrier across the yard and for the first time livestock entering the yard were faced with a barrier that at least looked like one, not the usual collection of strategically placed vehicles, wheelbarrows and wishful thinking, this being the only thing stopping whatever beast it was heading off to the hills.

Today's beasts were stampeding pigs who, having not been fed breakfast were keen to tell me of the error of my ways. I led the way and soon had all the pigs crammed with some enthusiasm into the stable, a slight faux pas on my side was not having been confident this would work I had failed to leave any real food in the stable to occupy the curious pork until the door was shut. With a squeal of "Back its a trap" they all ran back out of the door and back down the lane hoping that the breakfast fairies had been in their absence.

This continued until two of the three little pigs were safe in the stable with Iggle and Piggle, one of the little pigs being a bit more wary than its siblings refused to leave the safety of the Bonsai Mountain.

Thor was then persuaded to leave the med bay, say goodbye to Apollo and get in amongst the Mangalitzas Pam and Bridget. Here a transformation took place. Our boar of questionable sexuality suddenly became all boarish. Drooling over everything he marked the perimeter of the pen with foamy flob and tiddled over everyone and everything while the girls made idiots of themselves and squealed and squeaked with delight every time Thor strutted by. He even managed a couple of attempted mounts, bossed the girls around who unbelievably became all passive and stole their food.

Confident that Thor now knew his place, his purpose and status in the animal kingdon I left him to get on with chopping wood (there is a saga re wood, oil, heating, sulky rayburns and clever electricians, but you will have to wait) while he got on with what he had been bought for.

Quite why some four minutes later he was back under Apollos belly rubbing himself in a most undignified manner and frightening the horses is a question that only he can answer. I suppose true love conquers all, and that includes fences.

Pigs might fly

Thor testing the runway. Pigs might fly.

Sing if youre winning

The low cloud and heavy rain could have put a real downer on the day.Pulling on yesterdays mud caked wet clothing really wasn't my favourite part of the day, neither was finding a helpful Berner had moved an equally mud covered boot out into the rain the happiest of moments.

The poor Ryelands looked wretched as they considered the pros and cons of staying out in the rain for breakfast or seeking shelter. The lure of calories temporarily brought them from under the eaves of the cottage.

The winners were the boys, they were reinstated in their luxury appointed stables yesterday forsaking the mud of Willow Rise and Oak Bank for dry bedding and piped music (prog rock) Thor was also winning as he is in the med bay on a deep bed of soft hay at the back of the stable with hot and cold running apples. Poor lad has developed a limp, the fact that this coincided with torrential rain and his favourite pony being put indoors is surely just a coincidence.
So as the icy rain ran down my back and my dry boot became wetter than the wet one when it stayed in the mud of the pig pen while I carried on a few steps it had the makings of a real SOHF day.
But as my day starts with beaming smiles from our apprentice smallholder I just felt like singing.
Sing if your winning.

Outside looking in

Thor got himself the wrong side of the ring feeder and being a ham sandwich short of a picnic stayed there until help arrived. Meanwhile the Mangalitza piglets have found another way out of the pig pen, its so secret that they forget how they have got out and run around the outside squealing like...erm...well pigs really until yours truly opens the gate and stops them exercising the calories off.

One size fits all

Thor the Bernese Mountain Pig trying the soon to be drainage ditch for size.

Night fighting

Late last night as we did the last checks before bedtime and shut the geese away it was horribly clear that for three, Rupert, Storm and Sunny the walk back to the goose house was the last thing they did. Their bodies were scattered across the Corral OK where they had tried to escape the fox, those that did were in the goose house, the three that didn't testimony to the foxes murderous antics. No sign of fox, except for tracks, and nothing eaten off the dead birds. Why it left them or why it stopped short of killing the remaining birds we can only speculate, maybe Thor came along and frightened the cowardly vermin off. Steps have been taken to try and outwit Mr Fox, hopefully it arrives this weekend, meantime increased patrols armed with a gun are on the agenda.

This massive pile of stone arrived today ready to be turned into a hard floor in the Corral OK. Sunday is going to be a busy day!