Welcome to the chaos...

I've done some crazy things in my life, though nothing I would consider too extreme. Up until now the "craziest" thing I've done (at least according to mainstream society) is birth my son at home. What I did on Monday rivals that. In fact, since I don't really consider having a home birth crazy, I'd have to say it is craziest thing I can recall doing.

It all started a few weeks ago when we started seriously considering adding a new member to our family. Craigslist has become our standard means to grow our {animal} family, and we started scouring it for pigs.

{Please keep in mind that we are not purchasing animals just for pets. We purchased our goats for their milk and yard control, will purchase our chickens for eggs and meat, and the pig will be no different.}

We considered getting a small Hampshire pig, and then settled on persuing a pot belly, as we figured it wouldn't grow beyond what we can manage. We had trouble finding any, and went on with life for a few weeks. On Saturday we started browsing Craigslist again, and found a 3 month old pot belly pig. Since we didn't own a proper pet cage, we wanted to find a small animal we could fit in a crate. "Norman" (now known as Wilber) was a perfect match for us. He was friendly and accustomed to plenty of atttention. He fit well in the crate and sat nicely for me on the long (hour and a half!) ride home. On Sunday we noticed that Wilber was showing signs of going through puberty, and decided to find him a friend (in hopes that he would stop jumping up on us).

We found a lady selling "piggies", and made an appointment to visit them in the morning. We set out for a long drive (again), fulling intending to bring home another pot belly about Wilber's size. Unfortunately, the woman had grossly misrepresented her "piggies"--these animals were already overweight at 5 months old, and lived on a diet solely consisting of dog food! Anyone who knows pigs know that is not healthy, and since I planned on feeding this pig to my family, I wasn't interested.  Already far from home, we were determined not to come home empty handed. I called another man with piglets (this time only 6 weeks old), and asked how big his animals were. He assured me they were small, maybe 11 inches long, and we set out for another hour-long drive. 

The piglets' daddy--weighing in at 450 lbs.

These pigs were not pot bellies, but Hampshires. These are the hogs who easily grow double Hubby's size. But we figured we could always slaughter a bit early if the swine got out of control, and we were set on finding Wilber a friend. I'm not sure what it is with people misrepresenting the size of their beasts, but we fell for it again. These piglets were much happier and healthier than the last we'd seen, but they were definitely longer than 11 inches. Nonetheless, we picked out the cutest girl, and I headed to the car with the kids while the farmer tried to catch our new pet. Boy, did she squeal--and give him a run for his money! He finally caught her and tried to calm her down a bit. She was still young, and had minimal human interaction thus far. He tried to put her in the crate, but it wasn't going to happen. She was much too large. The farmer assured us that I could hold her on the way home. {Do you see where this is going?} He showed me how to hold her back legs, telling me not to let go no matter what.  I could have changed my mind right there, but if you know me you know that I am too determinded to give up without a fight. So we set out for home.

You can tell by the picture that I let go of her back legs.... Not even a block away from her mama, our new piggie began snorting and wiggling around. I held her as best as I could, as tight as I could, and told Hubby my strength would not last an hour and a half. Five minutes down the country dirt road was a feed store, and Hubby jumped out {car still running!} to buy a cage. No such luck. They referred us to the Pet Club in town. A good 20 minutes away. It's quite amazing what the human body can handle when faced with no other choice. I gripped that piggie as if our lives depended on it (and they probably did--I can only imagine the damage she would have done had she been let loose in our sedan). We finally reached the store, and Hubby ran in {car on, again}, and I tried plotting how we would get her in the cage without sacrificing my ribs to her back legs. Hubby came to the rescue with an over-priced (yet worth every penny!) pet taxi and a store associate to help. I instructed Hubby to control her legs from the driver's side, and the young man helping us (who didn't bat an eye at our crazy) held the cage while I guided our girl in. We settled in for another hour, Miss Piggy voiding in the pet taxi, unable to get her footing, and finally calming down while I gently stroked her nose. Somehow, we made it home in one piece, though I probably should get my car detailed due to flying debris.


Little Miss (who we've affectionately named Maybelline--May for short), has settled into the family and seems to enjoy her new home {much better than the bare, dirty pen she previously called home}. She grounts around all day, and became quick friends with Wilber {once he realized he was too small to make her his girlfriend}. Altough skiddish at first (especially of me, poor girl), she has quickly warmed up to the family. The boys are still learning to be less intimidating, but Sis especially is loving on these new friends.

It could be quite awhile before little Wilber is headed to slaughter, but we already have plans for Miss Maybelline, probably around the beginning of August. Hubby even found a mobile butcher with great prices, so we don't have to worry about transporting our little girl again. As crazy as my weekend was, I love the chaos we're living in, and I am so excited to become less dependant on grocery stores to feed my family. Raising our food works for me!

Do you have any hog experience? Any advice for me?

Today I am linking up at my favorite party, Works for Me Wednesday!