Friday morning my husband admitted that getting pigs might be a logical next step, considering all the cheesemaking I’m doing, and a split nanosecond later, I’d texted our pig-owning friend to let him know we were in — FINALLY. That very afternoon my husband swung by the farm to pick up two 10-week-old piggies.
They’re adorable and grunty and friendly. I named the small one Petunia (isn’t she a doll?) and the bigger one Fern. Morning and evening, I go down to their pen bearing gifts of deliciousness. I like to sit on a log right inside the gate and feed them chopped garden scraps and dairy.
Petunia is particularly fond of chopped kohlrabi. Fern adores strawberry tops.
They both went nuts for the buttermilk — Fern especially.
Fern is such a pig.
Neither of them liked the whey too much at first, but they’re guzzling it now, so maybe they were just overfull the first time I tried it?
Petunia and Fern are American Guinea hogs, which means they’re foragers — less rooty and more grass-eating. They grow slower and are smaller, so if everything goes according to plan, they should be ready to be turned into sausage sometime in the fall of next year.
It feels so good to finally have little piggies gobbling up all our scraps once again.