PixlBit

I'd just gotten back from Florida and I got a message from some friends wanting to know if I'd be interested in taking care of their farm for a week and a half. They'd pay me and I could help myself to whatever was in the pantry and freezers, as well as to as many eggs as I wanted. There's a three and a half week wait between when I start at the park and when the first paycheck comes in, so the answer was an emphatic "YES!".

My duties were to take care of five head of cattle, eight pigs, ten guinea fowl, a dog, a cat, and chickens too numerous to count. I also had to water the stuff in the green house and the seedlings in the house that hadn't been planted in the green house yet. All this for $25 a day, plus free food. And I was working at the park at the same time.  

 The six pigs destined to be my future bacon. AKA the Juvies.

Mornings I got up at 5:00 AM, because everyone had to be fed. I got lucky, and my friends rolled one of those giant round bales of hay into the pasture so I wouldn't have to feed the cattle for about a week. I had one pig at the farm, and seven at the partner farm that needed breakfast, the chickens and guinea fowl all needed to be fed and let out to forage for the day, and Zoe the dog Finn the cat needed breakfast and some TLC in the morning. I also had to water the seedlings in the house and turn on the grow lamp. Then it was get ready for work and drop Bandit off at home on my way by. He and Zoe didn't really get along all that well, and he's getting kind of rickety in his old age and I was worried he'd fall down the stairs or something. Then after work, I'd pick up Bandit, pick up slops at a local restaurant for the pigs, and return to the farm. The pigs had to be fed again, and the chickens and guinea fowl closed up by sunset so the local predators didn't get them. The chickens were pretty obliging, but the guineas took a little finessing to get them in their coop.

Four of the guineas hanging out in the dust pit.

The chickens and guineas are free range, so I had to be careful not to leave the green house door open (or the house door, for that matter). The chickens also started following me around everywhere. Half the time I felt like the pied piper, the other half I felt like I was being stalked. The most common phrase out of my mouth while I was there was "No chickens in the Subaru!" Every time I would open the back hatch, they would get in and start looking for the pigs' food. The biggest issue with that was that chickens aren't housebroken... At night, when it would be time to "put them to bed", the chickens would all line up and file in through the little door in the side of the coop, and I'd just have to close and latch it behind them. The guineas were a different story, however. I never managed to get all ten in at night, but I managed to average a out seven a night, which seemed to impress my friends. Of course, when you make a game out of it, it gets easier.

My stalkers, waiting for me outside the green house...

The cattle finally ate all their hay and I had to get more into the pasture. I was told not to go in by myself, as the lead cow could get very pushy and the others might crowd, too. They'd left instructions telling me I could either gather up three cartloads of hay every morning, or I could roll the smallest bale into the pasture. Obviously, I chose to roll the bale down the hill and into the pasture, because seriously, who wouldn't want to roll a giant round hay bale down a hill? I got it into the pasture fine, managed to stop it where I could reach it just inside the fence, and was in the process of breaking it up so they could all get to it and Penelope, the boss cow, couldn't hoard it all for herself and her calf. Rumball (pronounced "Roomple"), one of the young bulls, was nibbling on the backside of the bale as I was jabbing at it with a pitchfork. He's pretty laid back, and he and I were getting along just fine. All of a sudden, Penelope comes running up and headbutts the bale with all her might. It bangs into Rumball, who lets out a startled sound that was somewhere between a moo and a yelp, and jumps out of the way. Penelope bangs into it again, and the bale starts rolling faster and faster down the hill, with Penelope chasing after it and hitting it again whenever it started to slow down. The bale ended up on the far side of the pasture up against the fence. All the rest of the cattle had run down after Penelope, and then all of them proceeded to do a victory dance back up the hill. Meanwhile, I'm laughing my ass off and wondering what the hell do I do now. A quick text to my friends and they tell me not to worry, the cattle will find it, it's something that they like to do every now and then. Holly calls it the "new fodder frolic".

Penelope and herd. Rumball is the blond one behind her.

And now we get to the part where farming became serious and not so much fun. Stella, the one pig left at the farm, was pregnant. Holly and Sue told me not to worry, she probably wouldn't have them while I was there, but if she did, she'd be just fine. They'd set up the farrowing shed before they left, and assured me that she'd be a wise pig and have them in the shed. She's done this before and was a good mother. Monday evening (my friends were due back Wednesday night), I realize she's not in the shed, she's not hanging out where she can see me (usually, she'd hang out while I was doing chores and keep me company), and I go looking. Her pasture isn't huge, it's temporary electric fencing so they can move her around and she doesn't end up living in a giant mud pit. She's down in the far end in the woods and she's either building the world's largest pig fort or a nest to have her piglets in. April in Maine the weather isn't all good, and there are foxes, coyotes, raccoons, and other predators that wouldn't hesitate to take a newborn piglet. I'm a farming noob, so I hope she's not really going to have the babies in the woods and finish up the rest of my farm chores. I go out after I have the chickens and guineas put to bed, and she's started having them in the woods. In the dark. In the rain, and it's all of 40 degrees out. I call the partner farm, and they come down and the three of us spend the next several hours grabbing newborn piglets and attempting to convince Stella to finish up in the shed. No joy, she has ten of them in the woods. We took most of them up and put them in the shed under the heat lamp because they were getting so cold. Then, Greg had to make a piglet squeal while he carefully backed up the hill to the shed so that she would go in and feed them. We all congratulate ourselves on a job well done and everyone goes to bed.

Stella napping in the sun before the piglets were born

Next morning, I get up and go out to check on them. One mama pig, and one, two, three, four, five...five... shit! Where are the other five?! I call Greg and Nicole and tell them five piglets have disappeared into thin air. Nicole arrives first. She looks around, pretty much everywhere I'd already looked, and can't find anything. She looks at me and says, only half joking: "there really were ten, right? We didn't just dream them?" Greg arrives a little later. He can't find them, either, and we all have to go to our various jobs. I get a phone call at work around 2 in the afternoon, it's Nicole, Greg found them under the shed, where they'd apparently wandered to during the night. He got them out with a leaf rake. I rushed back to the farm. Two were ok, but the other three were in rough shape. We had to warm them up and get food into them. So there the three of us sat, each with a piglet under our sweatshirts and a syringe full of warm milk mixed with Karo syrup, trying to revive the little guys. After several tense hours, they perked up and we put them back in with mama. Greg and Nicole went home to take care of their animals (they raise alpacas) and I went up and fed the rest of the pigs. Greg and Nicole came back later to check on Stella and the piglets and we all had a congratulatory beer. All was fine when I checked on them before I went to bed at 10 PM.

The rescued piglets after we warmed them up and fed them

Wednesday AM dawns. I go out to check on the piglets. Eight. Only eight visible. Sinking feeling once again. I feed everybody and go check again. I count nine, one is pretty obviously dead, and two aren't looking so good. I call Greg and Nicole again. At this point, I think they may be getting sick of hearing from me. Greg comes down, tells me to go to work, I've missed enough time due to piglets and he doesn't have to be at work until much later. I get a text from Nicole while I'm at work - Stella's crushed three (the missing one was under her), and stepped on one and broken its back. Greg took care them for me, a sow with piglets is not something a noob farmer should be dealing with. Stella outweighs me by at least 450 pounds, if not more. I go back to the farm and feed everyone, say my goodbyes, and clean up after myself and go home and sleep in my own bed.

This is what everything is supposed to be like!

It was a lot of fun, up until the piglets. I'd be happy to do it again, just as long as I don't have to worry about dealing with a farrowing sow again.

Penelope's calf Lois. Love those highland cattle!

I have a ton more pics from my time at the farm, they're on my photostream at flickr. The lambs and  goats are from the farm near the park and not from my friends' farm.