Yesterday, when we went out to feed the piglets dinner (around 3ish), I counted piglets like I always do — 3 boys, 3 girls, the right number. This morning? 2 boys, 3 girls. Definitely one missing. The hooligans move around so much that I kept re-counting and re-counting, but we are definitely down a hooligan. Damn it.
There’s a full moon tonight, and we always seem to have the worst coyote attacks then. It’s hard to believe that it happened again, with Maggie here, but she’s about 200 feet from the pig paddock, and I don’t have a fenced way to let her patrol more territory.
I’m especially worried because she is already barking her fool head off again. I’m very tempted to just let her out of the gate to roam. I think she’s a homebody, but we’ve only had her two months, so I can’t be sure.
This is the worst part of farming, not being able to keep everyone safe.
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Isn’t farming nice? I grew up on a farm, a very small one, but my folks wanted me to be a writer and wouldn’t let me help out. Now, I have a small garden and a few animals and wish I could’ve just stayed on the farm……..