7.31.22
I am a firm believer in second chances. Whether it be animals or humans, a second chance is always worth the risk in my opinion but then one must be willing to take the lumps if that second chance turns out to be a mistake! Such was the case with Lady, the sow we ended up dispatching the day I came down with heat stroke three weeks ago. She had been given her second chance at producing a nice litter of piglets after only having six on her first farrowing and since we knew her consort was not at fault – he bred our other girl Hermione with grand results – it was a certain fact that Lady was just not a good producer. Her last birthing fell far short and although she raised some dandy ones, only popping out four and then having only three survive to weaning age – 7 weeks old – unfortunately put her on the dispatch list. Now as much as I liked her, we are farmers and as such, an animal such as a pig or cow must consistently produce in order to remain on our farm.
So, Lady ended up in the cooler. Now it was Hermione who was getting her second chance. When this girl farrowed her first litter of piglets the pigging stars were definitely out of alignment! She was the girl I was heading down to check on that fateful snowy morning in January when I fell and broke my arm. Darrell had to rush me to the emergency room in John Day so I was unable to check on her before we left. When we returned home, I was so incapacitated due to the medication they had given me, that I went to bed and slept. That night, Hermione had her piglets. As a rule, I like to sit in the farrowing stall when any of my girls are giving birth, especially with a first-time mum. The following morning Darrell drove me down to the pig house where I discovered Hermione had given birth to 11 lovely piglets, alas, there were only six still alive.
While Darrell stayed home to tend to the animals, my pal Lynda Thomas drove me to Bend the following day for my consultation with the surgeon then took me back to Bend the very next day for the actual surgery! During this time, I discovered Hermione had squashed more piglets, leaving only three wee ones alive. I felt terrible! Despite knowing there was nothing I could have done, considering my injury, I still felt I had not given this girl her best chance at being a good mum. To top it all off, over the next week, she decided to start drying up! This was not looking good for her! Her poor remaining piglets were hungry. The remedy for that was supplementing the wee ones with creamy milk from Heidi, our milk cow. Within a few days of coming home after surgery, with Darrell’s eagle eye on me, I was able to at least take milk from Heidi for us and the wee piglets – thank goodness for machine milkers!
Over the next few weeks, I deliberated what to do with Hermione. When her piglets were ready to be weaned, I had pretty much made up my mind that she needed to go. Besides, wasn’t I supposed to be getting out of the pig raising business? Slowing down? Cutting back? Finally, I decided to put her in the pig paddock where Whitey, the young boar resided. It was inevitable she would be bred by him as like clockwork, most sows come into season 3 or 4 days after you take them away from their babies. No problem, I thought, I could always sell her as a bred sow.
As my arm slowly healed, my thoughts took a turn as they usually do, and I found myself once again having that conversation with Darrell of “should we or shouldn’t we” continue to raise pigs. Poor Darrell! He is such a Rock of Gibraltar to me! Willing to go whichever way my mood swings me, willing to support whatever endeavour I put my mind to. His thoughtful answer to my dilemma was “Whatever makes you happy Rose!” Well, I reasoned, I love raising pigs and they really are not that much work, and my arm will soon be better, let’s give Hermione a second chance.
Hermione’s Second Chance has paid off. A week ago, she delivered 11 piglets. I sat with her until 8 had popped out and then since for all appearances I thought she was pretty much done, went to the house for a cup of tea. Coming back a short while later to check on her, I saw another two were nursing contentedly at her very full udder. One piglet, who must have been the last delivered, was enclosed in a thick sack and had unfortunately not had a chance to take its first breath. Today, 10 vigourous piglets are trundling around the farrowing stall, coming out to play in the mud wallow in the outer pen when mum comes out for her cooling mud bath. Hermione is a gentle, careful mum with an udder that ranks with the best of my previous sows. This second chance has definitely paid off.
Second chances good things, especially when they succeed. Sometimes, they can break your heart. I am sure everyone can recall a time in their life when they have given something – or someone – a second chance. Those times when we hastily cast aside those who have transgressed against us – two legged or four! Have we not looked back and thought “maybe I should have given them a second chance?” Then again, there are times when we sometimes give too many chances, only to be sorely disappointed over and over again. This can be so true when the second chance rule is applied to fellow humans, the hurt can last so much longer.
Farming is often hard. Decisions have to be made that occasionally make one question oneself. As responsible farmers we often weigh the cost of giving an animal a second chance or sending it down the road. Our good conscience will not allow us to pass an animal with issues off onto someone else, so invariably the cooler is turned on and meat ends up in the freezer. Life is a precious commodity and all too short. As I sit here sharing my thoughts, Darrell is in his easy chair sipping on a cup of coffee while the kettle on the stove is just coming to a boil for my next cup of tea. Milking is done, pigs are fed, and Sunday stretches out before us. As soon as I finish this story, we will take our respective cups of tea and coffee and head onto the front porch to sit and enjoy the peace and quiet surrounding us. The dogs will sit beside us, laying their heads in our laps, begging for attention. Off in the far distance a coyote is calling. Life is good on the farm.