Births and birthdays

The resident granddaughters love the movie Charlotte’s Web. Consequently, I have more than a passing awareness of the story. Those who know that about me were not surprised when I named our Hampshire boar after one of the characters in the story. I named him “Uncle”.


Perhaps you recall Uncle the large, apparently not-too-bright, boar hog that won the contest for best pig. This left Wilbur’s life in the balance until he was awarded a special medal essentially for being famous. Yep, he was famous for being famous.  Sounds like some of the people whose names appear so often in the headlines.  Anyway, I didn’t name my big boar after Wilbur because, in my opinion, Wilbur was a sniveling little sissy.
You can take one look at my boar “Uncle” and know that he is no sissy!

I bought Uncle in the middle of July this year. The weather was hot! Not great for moving hogs and not great for breeding hogs. By the first of August, I could confirm that Uncle was taking his job seriously. Whether his job was being taken seriously by the gilt hogs remained to be seen.

Time passed and the gilts continued to come into heat one by one. And then they didn’t.

Now understand all of this procreation activity was taking place out in the pasture without supervision. That left me in the position of having to carefully observe the females and try to gauge the stage of their gestation. It has been twenty-five years or more since last I raised hogs so I have been floundering. My confidence in my own judgment and Uncle’s effectiveness has ebbed and flowed.

Well this morning the wondering and guessing ended for our first gilt. About 9:00 I found her and her litter in a nest she had scraped out out in the pasture. She chose to ignore the hog shelter I built and placed in the field for her use. I went back to the barn and got a bale of straw to augment the nest she had made. When I got back to her, she was up eating the afterbirth. Though I didn’t get real close, I could see that she had five piglets alive and four or five more that were not. 

When I went back out in the afternoon she had taken the straw and created a big billowy nest for her young.  While I watched she was still working it around to get it to her liking.  Two or three piglets wondered out of the nest and back.  After a bit she laid down and the five little ones locked on.

She is a first-time mother. This is the first time I have farrowed pigs in the pasture. But this is the direction I want to pursue. My goal is to have hogs that can reproduce and raise young without confinement buildings. If I was a commercial hog farmer, 50% mortality at birth would be catastrophic. On this farm it’s just a sadness. My father-in-law used to say in such cases, “As long as it doesn’t come closer to the house than the barn, it will be okay.”

By the way, today resident granddaughter number one turns six years old!