I haven’t touched this blog in 3.5 years. I still can’t say why I have held onto it, when I have not felt a desire to write in all that time. Yet, here I am. Trying to cobble together my thoughts in an attempt to help process the recent events I have been struggling with.
Three weeks ago tomorow I said goodbye to three sows. They represented half of my small breeding herd, two generations of breeding, and a whole lot of time, effort, and love. For those that know my girls by name, I said goodbye to Bri, Mandy, and Jenny. It was planned for months, which allowed plenty of time to prepare emotionally, and I was unwavering and absolutely certain in my decision and the reasons. Still, it broke my heart and left me in a bad state mourning the loss of my beloved sows even though I still know it was the right thing to do.
The Necessity of Culling
Culling is a necessary evil for the betterment of breeds/species. In the homesteading or farming world, it is common practice and is an act of love. Choosing to care for, steward, and be responsible for livestock is hardly easy, and there is a reason a lot of people aren’t cut out for it. For most of us that shoulder the responsibility, we love our animals, want to do right by them, and are passionate about our chosen species or breed. Some admittedly more so than others. Ultimately, we want them to have good lives and be happy, healthy, and productive as long as possible. For those who don’t homestead/farm, they may struggle to understand how you can love and care for an animal day in and day out and then turn around and make a decision to cull. It can be difficult to convey that it is for the betterment of the species, the breed, the welfare of the animal and/or future progeny, and for the longevity of the homestead/farm. Some inexperienced onlookers see it through a skewed lens. They are quick to write you off as heartless, accusing you of “using the animal up”, or only caring about your bottom line. My personal favorite is the unsolicited Disnified alternative solutions that are offered. “Wouldn’t they be better off if X or can’t you just give them to X”. No, no they wouldn’t, and no, no I can’t. Again, the lack of experience is blatantly obvious as they do not understand the grass is not always greener, and some fates are far worse than death. Horror stories upon horror stories exist of animals that are given away or sold as a “pet”. I would never, ever subject one of my animals to that fate.
Unless you’ve experienced the heartbreak of the decision much less the follow through, you can’t possibly understand the toll it takes. Particularly on a small homestead, even more particularly when it is an animal that was born and raised on your property. Even MORE when she has served you well and it an act of compassion. It can be heartbreaking, soul crushing, and excruciatingly painful… even when it is the right choice.
Culling is for the greater good. When it isn’t practiced bad genes, poor temperaments, crappy moms, inferior performance, unthrifty animals, bad conformation, etc gets perpetuated in the gene pool. Translation: the bad traits that are a detriment get passed onto the next generation . Not every animal is cut out to be a breeder. Just because an animal has its respective reproductive parts does not mean it should use them for a myriad of reasons. The betterment of the breed, the species, and the genetic line should always be front and center in your mind. Is this animal going to take my herd forwards, backwards, or maintain? Not all animals are going to be superstars and take your herd to the next level, but still these are questions that should be asked.
As the old saying goes “breed the best and eat the rest”. It’s short, catchy, and rings true. If humans weren’t in the equation to interfere, natural selection would be the driving force at work weeding out the inferior as opposed to people. In the natural world, if a sow is such a terrible mom that she consistently lays on and crushes her litter, well, she won’t have many or possibly any surviving piglets to perpetuate her line would she? Nature has its way of weeding out the weak. Instead, some humans despite this glaring offense that screams “not fit for breeding” continue to knowingly breed her. Or, even worse, sell her to some poor unsuspecting victim.
Not all culls are cut and dry. I sure wish they were. It would make decisions far easier, and dull the heartbreak. It is a hell of a lot easier to have to say goodbye to an animal with a nasty or aggressive attitude. The one that’s final offense was the last straw, and you’ve adopted the “don’t let the door kick you on the way out” mentality. This is a stark contrast to bawling your eyes out and repeatedly screaming “I’m sorry”, cradling your deceased beloved mama who has been nothing short of wonderful in every way, knowing you saved her from an inevitable and painful decline. I have experienced both, and will take the former over the latter any day.
The Why
Now onto the reason that I’m sure most of you clicked on this blog post. The “why”. What was my reasoning behind my choice to cull Bri, Mandy, and Jenny? Three sows, three different track records, three different histories, three very different reasons.
Baby Bri
Bri had all the promise I could ever hope for out of a gilt. She had it ALL. The growth, the obvious heats, the incredibly laid back personality and strong maternal instinct. Then, she went on to farrow 12 piglets in 65 minutes completely unassisted her first litter, and weaned all 12. I had stars in my eyes and thought I had a true rockstar on my hands. Unfortunately, it was all downhill from there.
Ever since weaning her first textbook perfect litter, Bri has been a notorious problem child. A sweet, endearing, and absolutely loveable problem child. The one that allll the weird and unexplainable things seem to happen to. The one that you’re always trying to problem solve or troubleshoot. Why she isn’t settling, why she lost her pregnancy, etc. She has been my special case for years. The one that always gave me something to figure out and left me scratching my head. I would be lying if I said I regretted the work and effort I put into her. She is the first sow that I had to truly investigate and figure out the cause for many repeat services. I sleuthed, came up with a theory, executed a solution, and solved the problem. She went on to give me Geillis and Mandy that next litter.
After that, the writing was on the wall and part of me knew it would only be a matter of time before I couldn’t continue to make excuses. It wasn’t if, but when. I have never had a sow with a better temperament or personality and there was no greater mother than her. She loved her babies harder than anyone, and even ones that weren’t hers.
Unfortunately, being an absolute rockstar of a mom isn’t good enough if you fail to breed back and/or have trouble doing so. I simply couldn’t count on her, and when everyone gets bred and carries to term without issue it becomes glaringly obvious it’s a problem at the individual level. The final nail in the coffin so to speak was failing to breed back for a fall litter last year, then settling on a fall breeding for the following spring, miscarrying the litter with no obvious cause as to why, only to get rebred and have a whopping three piglets. An animal that weighs 665 lbs takes up a lot of space and feed. In one year’s time she gave three piglets and ate nearly 1 ton of food herself in the process. Unfortunately, even though she was the sweetest thing ever, I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the fact that she was dead weight any longer.
Overall, I lost a lot of money on keeping her around as long as I did over the years. But, working through her problems taught me a lot that I otherwise wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn. I will be better equipped to identify and solve problems early not only in my own herd, but also for those in my Patreon that I support thanks to her. I do not regret my choice to work through the problems as long as I did, nor do I regret the decision I ultimately made to say goodbye.
Mandy
Mandy was one of the replacement gilts that I kept out of Bri’s second litter along with her sister Geillis. I was really excited about the Large Black sired girls, and everything that entailed from a maternal instinct standpoint. There was no lack of that to inherit from Bri, but adding in Large Black genetics too? I was sure that was a recipe for success. Confession: I actually only wanted to/needed ONE gilt and I had fallen in love with Mandy and her pink splotch on her nose just like her mother. But, she would need someone to grow up with as a companion, and I thought well, might as well keep two girls just in case one doesn’t pan out. That is the only reason I kept Geillis and thank God I did.
Everything leading up to Mandy’s first farrowing screamed promise. Her growth rate was incredible, she was hardy and an easy keeper, absolutely sweet as could be with a laid back personality, wildly strong and obvious heats and settled on first service. As a gilt, her underline resembled one more like a second or even third parity sow, and I was chomping at the bit to see what she was made of when farrowing came.
She farrowed middle of the night. Piglets came out like rapid fire just like her mother and I was on cloud 9 watching her quickly pass piglets unassisted without moving much less getting up. The dream state quickly turned into a nightmare. Once a good chunk of the litter was born, squirming to the udder and all around her making noise, she came unhinged. Full blown psychosis. Snapping at/biting piglets, lunging at them, trampling them, and literally spiraling out of control. Some were immediately killed by being trampled to death, and the rest I saved by swooping in and scooping them up as quickly as I could.
This is not uncommon behavior out of gilts unfortunately. To make a long story short, I worked some magic to calm her down and she did accept her babies. She loved them hard, was an absolutely fantastic mother, and weaned every single piglet that I scooped up and saved their first traumatic night of life.
With how well she did after the farrowing itself, I gave her another shot. Again, these things HAPPEN with gilts. Because she quickly accepted and loved her babies after the fact, I was certain it could be chocked up to #giltproblems. If it happens as a gilt it by no means is a guarantee it will happen again.
She bred back right away without issue, and then her second and final chance came. Unfortunately, round 2 went much of the same. Rapid firing of piglets only to start biting them and tossing them across the room combined with spiraling out of control. A full blown 550lb tornado out of control with me scooping piglets up, trying to save them and whisk them away from her. Then, much like the first time, when the dust settled, she turned into a completely devoted and nurturing mother.
What was wrong with Mandy wasn’t fixable. She had textbook perfect nutrition as a gilt as well as throughout gestation, no stress environment, etc to set her up for success. What she had was a hormone regulation problem, and was dependent on ME to externally regulate her through farrowing. It was a HER problem, and the only thing that could be done would be for me to have to be there for every farrowing to save piglets and band aid the situation until she got through it and calmed down. This is a trait that is unacceptable in a breeder. If I hadn’t been there both times to intervene, I cannot image the bloodbath I would have walked into the next morning.
Again, I do not regret my decisions I made. I gave her a second chance and I am so happy I did because it just as easily could have gone another way. Unfortunately, it didn’t. But, I know I set her up for success and gave her every opportunity to prove herself. Sadly, she just didn’t have the goods and I had to do what was right and say goodbye.
Jenny
There simply are not enough pages on this blog to sing Jenny’s praises enough. She was an absolute rockstar of a sow in every way imaginable. I have shared plenty on my Instagram about Jenny’s impressive breeding and farrowing history, and I am going to bank on that if you’re reading this you have some understanding of her history. Simply put, she was an absolute powerhouse and a monster breeder in the best way possible. Very fertile, prolific, milky, maternal, and ultimately just a wonderful sow. I could always depend on her. To settle on first service, to bring the litter size, and to have a high weaning rate. She had it ALL and over the course of her seven litters she had an average litter size of 14 (range 11-17) with a born live to weaning rate of 97%.
I have said for years on my Patreon that Jenny’s undoing would be her knees, not her performance. She was the second gilt I ever kept for myself and while I had learned a lot by the time she came around, I still made some mistakes. Mainly, I didn’t set her up for success with proper bone mineralization for longevity. If she were a less prolific or milky sow, her body may not have ever had to pay for my mistake, or at least maybe not so soon. But, that’s not how things worked out. Those large litters and heavy milk production come at a high price, and unfortunately, her body wasn’t properly prepared and paid the toll. With each litter, I saw her knees knock more and more. Her body was breaking down and the writing was on the wall.
This past winter when she far along in gestation, she struggled to walk on the pitted and bare frozen ground without snow as insulation and cushion. She couldn’t leave the shelter because it hurt her too bad to walk on the uneven ground. This meant she couldn’t walk to her water source. So, for a week I lugged buckets multiple times a day to hand deliver her food and water praying for snow so that she would be able to leave. Snow finally came, and she was once again able to leave her shelter.
Several weeks later after she was moved into the farrowing area and had her 7th and final litter, much of the same happened. I didn’t have to deliver her food and water due to the infrastructure, but it quite literally was painful to watch her walk. It was very clear she was hurting despite not carrying the massive weight of her litter anymore, and it hurt me to watch her. I knew she wouldn’t have another winter in her. I bawled like a baby sharing videos of her walking in my Patreon gutted that my prophecy from years ago had come true and I had to do what was right by her. I didn’t have a choice. She had been so good to me, and I owed it to her to do right by her. This meant I couldnt be selfish and keep her around knowing the pain she was in, how hard the previous winter was, and that it would only be a matter of time before she went lame. She deserved better after everything she has done for me and I cared way too much about her to let her suffer. She deserved to go out at the top of her game coming off a carefree summer versus injured and suffering.
August 3rd, 2024
When you get down to it, I have very basic hopes for my animals whether they are a culled breeder or one that is destined to be a feeder from the start. I want them to be born here, live here, and die here. I don’t want them to ever know mistreatment, stress, or suffering. That’s all I ask, and at the end of the day it isn’t too much to ask for.
The easiest thing for me to do would have been to load Bri, Mandy, and Jenny on a trailer and send them off to a processor. Save myself the pain, and not have to see it for myself. But, that would have resulted in an incredible amount of stress for them leaving the only home they have ever known. Easier for me, but harder for them. I believe so strongly in my most basic hope that I would knowingly put myself through more anguish and heartbreak to spare them stress and suffering. Truly putting my beliefs and ideals to the test.
I am NOT knocking those that send animals off to a processor. Do not read between lines that don’t exist. But for me, that was never an option, it didn’t exist. The only option was for them to die at the only home they’ve ever known, without stress or a worry in the world. Thanks to my friend Hogan at Kerev Butchery, my beloved sows got exactly that.
I will not go into the details of their death, but all that matters is two things:
- I was there with them and for them in the end
- It couldn’t have gone anymore textbook.
They died instantly with me by their side, the one face that has been the constant day in and day out over the years. I was there when they were all born, every day in between, and I was there when they died. It was painful for me to be there, but again there was no other option for me. I needed to set my heartbreak and pain aside and put their comfort and needs in those final moments above my own. It was me that they knew best, me they were most comfortable with, and me that should be there. It was every bit as emotionally excruciating as you may imagine. I bawled, whaled, was an absolute mess, and I knowingly put myself through that for them. The last act of love I could show them.
There was not one ounce of suffering or stress experienced on their part. Ultimately, that is what I am most grateful for and I will forever be thankful and in Hogan’s debt for that. I couldn’t have asked for better for them, and as soon as it was done I felt an incredible wave of relief wash over me knowing that it couldn’t have gone any better.
It has been almost three weeks since I said goodbye, and I still miss them terribly. But, in a sense they are still here. I look around at my gilts and sows, and I am reminded that they live on in their daughters. Every time I look at Geillis, I see Bri in her eyes as well as her sister Mandy. I see some of Jenny’s early personality traits in her daughter Maggie. While they may be gone, they will live on in the generation I have, the ones that are still to come, and will never be forgotten.
