Ridgetop - our place and how we muddle along

Baymule

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Ahhh…..PIGS! I raised a hog for FFA and got Reserve Grand Champion! I didn't get pigs again until my husband and I retired and moved to our 8 acre paradise 3 years ago. We went to get 3 feeder pigs and they were in a muddy, sloppy pen. DH took one look at that and volunteered me to go in the pen and be a pig wrangler. The breeder was a very large, overweight man and moved slow. But when he got one, he held onto it. DH had pulled the trailer up next to the pen with the side door open. His job was to open and close the door. Me and Mr. Pig Breeder chased piglets around the sloppy pen, grabbing and carrying them to the trailer. We each grabbed a hind leg, lifted the pig over the fence and 1-2-3 swung the pig back and forth, tossing on 3, into the open door of the trailer. I get you on the driving home with the windows down!
 

Ridgetop

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Congratulations on your RGCh!

Yes, over the years we have become intimately acquainted with pig muck! One year DS3 was the only one who wanted a pig for Fair. We would load it in the trailer every week and took it to another 4- H club whose leader specialized in pigs. She taught him to show it and he had a good time. He rode it in the field, trained it well, and it was rather sweet. Then it came inside the house and ran down our long wall leaving a large smear of pig mud for 20 feet! By the time we got it out there was lots more pig mud and that pig was no longer so sweet or cute! :sick

I will have more Tales From the Dark Side soon about our pig adventures. :th
 

RollingAcres

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The day came that Ham Hocks would take her last ride. According to my pig book, we could easily get her to load by dragging a pan of corn in front of her into the trailer. She would follow it right in. Getting the pan of corn, I dutifully dragged it to the back of the trailer where I came to a sudden stop. The floor of the trailer was on a level with the top of her back. This had escaped our notice when planning to transport our sweet HH to the butcher. We had also neglected to train her to leap into the bed of a Datsun pickup which was what the trailer had originally been before its second life as a utility trailer. Since she was now docilely eating the corn at the back of the trailer, DH said we would just lift her into the trailer. After all, she only weighed 225 lbs. Together DH and I put our arms around her. We tried to pick her up together but couldn't get her off the ground. In fact she didn't even notice us trying as she continued to gobble her corn. DH said we would just lift her front feet into the trailer and then heave the rest of her in. She noticed this. Not happening. I think DH said he thought she weighed more than 225 lb. but although his mouth was moving I couldn't hear anything over the shrieks of porcine rage in our ears. As she slipped through our arms, she caught sight of the trailer with its camper shell door looming open. Ham Hocks announced that she would not enter the trailer, nor would she ride in such a vehicle, and in fact she would stay home. She ran straight back to her pen.

We discussed new plans to get her into the trailer. We needed a ramp so she could walk up into the trailer. DH and I hauled 2 long 2 x 12 planks over and propped them on the back of the trailer. I scattered corn up the ramp. Once again we brought her to the trailer and the new ramp. She greedily ate all the scattered corn as she walked along the side of the ramp. DH tried to push her onto the ramp. She resisted. One side of the ramp fell off in the struggle catching DH on the shin. Squealing insults Ham Hocks retreated to her pen again. I offered DH ice, he angrily refused . :somad We needed reinforcements. Our children were summoned from play and informed they must act as side rails. Dubiously they looked at Ham Hocks who was much larger than they were. DH limped into position, DS1 and DD went to chivy Ham Hocks up to the ramp again. Hocks Hocks snorted and charged through us, scattering small children like bowling pins. Satisfied, she returned to her pen, refreshed herself with a long drink of water, and waited for our next assault on her person. She gave a whole new meaning to "Just Say No!" Strange that I had never noticed that she had a particularly malevolent stare.

After a 15 minute break to bandage up and pacify the troops. I went inside to my trusty library and retrieved "Everything You wanted to Know About Raising Pigs" Volume I. Apparently I should have ordered Volume II as well, it probably had the recommendation not to raise pigs. Under the heading "Moving and Loading Your Pig", after the bit about dragging pan of corn into the trailer and happily shutting the gate on the loaded pig, I noticed it continued on the next page. There was the next chapter, What To Do When Your Pig Won't Load. It said to put a bucket over her head, tie a rope around her rear leg and guide her backwards into the trailer. Right. I went outside and told DH this news. When he finished laughing, demanded to see the book. I went to get a bucket, he went to get the rope and we sent DS1 for the large push broom which was also mentioned in the chapter. Maybe to sweep up the pig poop that was beginning to accumulate n the drive way. Once armed with our weapons we sent the children to retrieve Ham Hocks. They came back pigless. Apparently she was napping and refused to wake up. I went down to get her. Finally, she agreed to come up to the driveway again if I would stop slapping her butt. I hoped I was not bruising the ham but it was all I had. Walking triumphantly along she saw the refilled corn pan sitting enticingly on the driveway. Measuring the distance from it to the trailer she swaggered up to it and dropped her snout into the corn. Gently we scratched her back and murmured endearments as DH swiftly tied a loop around her rear leg. The rope ran through the back of the camper shell through the window and was held by DS1 and his sister. At a signal from DH we sprang into action. DS1 and DD pulled on the rope, I swung a large rubber bucket over Ham Hock's face and pushed her back. Keeping her steady, DH maneuvered her feet onto the ramp. As I backed her up the ramp, DH struggled to keep her feet on the boards and pulled the rope backwards and into the camper. Quickly kicking the ramp boards aside, DH slammed the tailgate and camper shell gate on the surprised porker. Running around to the front of the trailer he quickly tossed the rope end into the camper and slammed that window shut. Loud squealings and grunts began as Ham Hocks tried to break out of the trailer. The little trailed rocked back and forth as the enraged hog tossed back and forth. The camper shell gate started to open as she thrust her nose against it! As I leaned on the gate to keep her in, DH grabbed another length of rope and tied it shut. We were exhausted, but couldn't stop to rest. We had to get Ham Hocks to the butcher before he closed, he was almost 2 hours away, and we had wasted most of the morning trying to load our pig. Shoving all the children in the truck, we drove off. Once on the road, Ham Hocks settled down a bit. When we arrived at the butcher, after the fateful deed was done, he weighed her. So much for our friend the Ag instructor judging weight - Ham Hocks clocked in at 340 lbs.! She was delicious by the way.
You had me laughing reading about your Ham Hocks story. I'm sorry I laughed at your "troubles" with her! And I love the fact that you actually went inside and started to look into your book trying to find answers! :lol: It's like picturing a doctor, during an emergency, trying to flip through his/her book looking for an answer on how to sew up a wound or something. Hahahah
 

Ridgetop

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Meanwhile, back at the ranch, our heroes . . . .
Relying on our trusty pig book "Everything You wanted to Know About Raising Pigs" Volume I, we had built 2 feed troughs for our pigs. Taking two 4’ pieces of 2” x 12” lumber we nailed them together in a V shape then nailed a square piece each end. We filled this with pig grower in the morning and each evening. We also put 10 lbs of rolled corn in each of 2 5 gallon buckets. filled the buckets with goat milk. We let this sit all day and fed it in the evening. We did the same thing again each the evening, letting it sit overnight and feeding it in the morning. By now our pigs were growing fast and we couldn’t keep enough feed in the troughs for them. Apparently the writers of the pig book had meant one feeder to each hog. :idunno Since we seemed to need more feeder space, the kids and I built three J feeders out of plywood from a plan in my pig book. With DH working so many hours I had overcome my terror of large noisy power tools since I was doing some construction work of my own. Using the jig saw I had made keyhole feeder boards for taking to the Fair. DH and I had also constructed a large feeder outside the block wall building window. We were keeping our hay in there and easily fed the goats through the window into the keyhole feeder. Using the Skilsaw, we built 3 “J” feeders 2’ wide. Each one held more than 50 lbs. of feed. We kept the feeders full at all times, using the two 4' troughs for slopping the hogs with the milk and corn. I am sure it was an optical illusion, but our roomy pig pen seemed to be shrinking. I know we had measured it and it complied with the minimum square footage recommended for 7 hogs. Wildly optimistic! We had 7 growing hogs in a pen 8’ x 25’. Yes, not enough room, but it was our first (and last) attempt at keeping this many hogs. The pen was crowded and very muddy. It was getting dangerous to go into the pen at all. Now we had to get the pigs out for the kids to work them and teach them to obey the pig canes. This was a real chore. DH’s only day off now was Sunday so that became pig working day. :hide

In the meantime, the pig breeder had called me and offered to sell me his pig scale for $200. :celebrate It was a walk -through scale that could be moved on wheels and used for both lambs and hogs. His daughter would be out of 4-H after the summer and he decided that our need was greater than hers. I drove out to pick it up right away. We had also bought a pig cart from a graduating 4-H member in another club after the last Fair. This was a welded metal box with a drop gate on each end. It was mounted on large industrial wheels, so you could transport your pig from the Fair pen to the ring and hold it at ringside in the cart until it was time to enter the ring. You could also wash or shave your pig in the cart through the bars. Super handy although super heavy. Pigs will not enter a closed space – remember Ham Hocks? With the pig cart, you pulled up both gate panels and dragged a pan of corn to the cart. Corn was sprinkled in the cart, the pig, seeing an escape at the other side, hopped in and you dropped both panels, trapping the pig. :woot Unless the panels jammed, at which point you had to quickly wrestle the panel down, while balancing in one leg and frantically kicking the grunting hog in the face as it tried to muscle its way out. :barnie Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug. Once the hog was successfully contained in the cart, you could push it wherever you wanted to take it. The scale worked in a similar way, with a drop panel on each end. These 2 pieces of equipment suddenly made our work a lot easier. Sort of.

Sunday after church, we approached our first pig weighing enthusiastically. :D =D We were so young and naïve. We still had sooo much to learn. Our barn sits 4’ below grade and is crowded to work in. First, we barricaded all escape routes from the barn, except the one leading to the sloped 4’ wide walkway up to the driveway. We positioned the pig cart at the opening onto the driveway. The two younger boys sat on top, each holding a drop gate up. We practiced with them dropping the gates on command until they were quick. DH, myself, and the 2 older children manned the walkway and pig pen. Turning one pig out of the pen, we sent it up the walkway. At the top it paused, puzzled by the tunnel with kids on top, but entered the cart. Instantly the panels were dropped into place. One jammed, but it was the one behind the pig and we were able to get it down before Porky backed out. Now we pushed the cart across the driveway to where we had the scale leveled and calibrated. We had used 50 lb. sacks of feed to calibrate it to the weight closest to the pigs’ approximate weight. Placing the pig cart end to end with the open scale we pulled up the drop gate and the pick seeing daylight walked through. Again, we dropped the gates, trapping the pig in the scale. Then we read off the weight, marked it down on our weight chart and repeated the process with another pig. Success, who said pigs were hard? :hide

This sounds soooo easy, but we are talking hogs here remember. Not only hog but lots of hogs. We figured this job would get easier, but it just got much harder. The pigs were growing, and they wanted to get out of their small pen, so it meant that DH had to man the gate, He was the only one with the strength to hold back the pigs who all wanted to get out at once. Each week the job got less like a fun adventure and became dirty, annoying work. We were still renovating and we had to share the only bathroom. After fighting with 7 muddy hogs to get them into the cart and then into the scale and do it 7 times, we were all covered with pig mud and pig other stuff. Everyone wanted to get into the shower as soon as possible. As soon as the last pig exited the scale and was in the pen, 2 adults and 4 children raced madly to get to the bathroom first. First come, first showered! You know how in an emergency it is women and children first? Not so on a family farm when the denizens are covered in stinky pig muck! It is every man for himself! Shouldering his way through his small children, and giving no quarter, DH often made it into the bathroom first. Occasionally, he would trip over one of the children and another child would slip in ahead of him. Parental authority could not be exercised when the door was locked and the shower running. Claiming an inability to hear, the victorious party cheerfully scrubbed away. Only a threat of no supper emptied the bathroom. The last one in the bathroom had to make it quick or end up with a cold shower.

The once cute little spotted piggies were now large malevolent hogs. One particular pig was very hard to work with. We used chain link gates to move our pigs. We had not yet learned about solid pig boards to move our hogs. This was apparently covered in Volume II, which had yet to make it's appearance on the feed store shelves. Remember this is pre-Amazon.com and pre-computer. We made solid wood pig boards after the Fair for the next pigs, and eventually became proficient in their use. For now we used chainlink gates, heavy and awkward. This pig learned to put his nose under the gate we were using as a barrier and toss it up and over his back, so he could escape to areas of the yard where is was hard to capture him. The whole time we were working with him he kept up a mind-numbing squeal of rage. He would bite us, so we had to wear our tall muck boots to keep from getting mauled. He was the smallest one with the nastiest temper. The larger hogs, while they did not have the sweet temperament of Ham Hocks, were manageable. They oinked with pleasure when we scratched their backs, and rubbed against the pen when we brought their slop. The smallest pig was the opposite. If we trailed our hands inside the pen the other hogs came to be scratched, he charged at us gnashing his teeth. His little piggy eyes gleamed with evil. It was obvious, we had somehow brought home a sociopathic pig. He was possessed by the devil.

Each time we weighed pigs we put off Devil Pig for as long as possible. Finally came the day when Devil Pig reached his pinnacle of destruction. Tired and covered in pig mud, the 6 of us stood by the pen looking at the hogs. 6 had been weighed already; tiring, muddy, but it was done. Only Devil Pig remained to be weighed. We knew it had to be done. He knew it had to be done. His eyes were trained on us like lasers daring us to try.

We managed to get him out of the pen. The little guys were perched on top of the pig cart waiting to do their thing with the drop gates. By now they were wise in the devious ways of Devil pig and carefully kept all parts of their anatomies from getting inside the cart bars. Sneering at the corn we trailed up to the cart, Devil Pig charged at each of us. We drove him back towards the ramp. 3 times we got him to the opening of the cart. 3 times he broke away, knocking DS1, DD and myself aside like bowling pins. Each time DH, powerful and strong, wielded his gate and drove Devil Pig back. By now we were all scratched and bleeding as well as covered with pig muck. There was no time to relax or render first aid. 6 humans faced off to the evil that was Devil Pig. You could almost hear the strains of “Onward Christian Soldiers” as we entered battle. We prepared for one last drive and pushed Devil Pig up the ramp, he was getting into the cart! Triumph! :celebrate

But No, No! Just as he was half way into the cart he lunged backwards, jarring the cart and knocking DS3 off onto the driveway. DS3’s drop gate clattered down. Devil Pig in an ncredible athletic display twisted around and ran straight at DH! Putting his snout under the edge of the chainlink DH was bracing he flung it into the air. DH has a bad leg from Vietnam. Trying to recover his balance and contain Devil Pig, DH was knocked to the ground with the gate effectively trapping him under it. As DH tried to get to his feet, hampered by the gate on top of him, Devil Pig with a hideous squeal trompled over DH and headed back into the barn. DH shouted some very unpleasant things. Abandoning Devil Pig we rushed to help our beloved husband and father. Getting to his feet, he continued to rain down curses on Devil Pig. We all looked at Devil Pig, laughing his diabolical laugh. In silence I opened the pen gate for him. Sneering, Devil Pig sauntered in. I would not swear to it that he did not give us the finger, except he only had 2 toes. That was the last time we tried to weigh Devil Pig. We no longer cared what he weighed. Soon they would all go to the Fair and NONE were coming home. :weee:weee:weee:weee:weee:weee

As we hobbled, broken, to the house, I could feel Devil Pig's eyes following all of us. I felt a shudder pass through my body at the thoughts of horrors to come. Soon, the Fair . . . .
 

Baymule

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People just don't know just how smart pigs are! We have had feeder pigs 4 times now, I am never sad at taking them to slaughter. I like pigs, but I am under no illusions about them. We picked up and delivered the two we took to slaughter two weeks ago. I don't have pigs now.....been looking on Craigs list.....LOL
 

Ridgetop

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That was the ONLY time we had more than 2 hogs. It was definitely a learning experience and taught us a lot. Nothing like being thrown in deep water to teach you to swim or drown! :lol: However, we persevered and had many more hogs after that. Most of them very fun experiences. DS2 and DS3 used to have pig races with their hogs and rode them around our field. Those pigs were much tamer because with just 1 or 2 pigs they get very affectionate.

But you have not heard the last of Devil Pig - coming soon - Devil Pig The Fair!
 
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