A busy week.

Two days ago my mate Dave called and said "Do you want a pregnant sow?"
"Hey, who wouldn't" I replied.
Now I understand that most people would think this is a pretty weird way to begin a conversation but around here it is quite normal.

Does that make us a bit strange? It must be a northerner thing.

Anyway, It turns out he had just spoken to a lady who had two pregnant sows that had to go as soon as possible. She wanted $200 for each sow which to my way of thinking is a bargain. If she drops a fairly average litter of eight to ten piglets then we are ahead by a long way. I buy weaner piglets for $70 each. So the plan is to go halves with my mate Dave and sell the weaners to cover costs. The rest is free pork! If the mum turns out to be a good mother with a large litter we will put her back to the boar or else sell her off as a breeder. Failing that she will become sausages. So I have named her Sausage. I think it is a good name for a pig.

I borrowed a stock trailer from our most wonderful and long suffering neighbours before Dave and I drove the hours trip down the range to Mourilyan. I would not usually consider moving a pregnant sow but we were given little choice and she had to go. The drive back was through unusually thick fog and was taken slowly and carefully as possible. I arrived home well after dark and coaxed the sow into her pen, gave her a feed and left her in peace.
Two days later and she is much more relaxed, even quite friendly. I have put a big load of hay in her shed and she will make her nest up when she is ready to drop. Her previous owner was unsure exactly how long she had to go but to my eye she is only a week or so off farrowing.

I had some help shovelling the gravel into the pig pen for the new floor. He insisted on doing it the same as Dad.