Last week was busy in terms of very big decisions but I didn't do particularly much apart from deciding said decisions. I will come to talk about all this deciding but not now, that can wait for next week.
If I don't get on with a posting shortly I'll be in to next week anyhow and I'm really trying my hardest to be good and keep on top of news for you and memories for me.
Yes we have pigs- lot of pigs, we went from two pigs to ten pigs in just a couple of hours.It all began on friday morning with Twiggy deciding she couldn't possibly eat breakfast which is rare for a pig, so it seemed like something was up. Indeed it was, by the time we'd got back from a quick trip to the market to stock up on carrots for pigs and cobs and fresh fish for us Twiggy had popped out one and was in the midst of popping out number two.


We'd never really seen new born piglets before so it was bit of a shock to see these tiny mites born  ready to rock. They kind of burst out of their sacks, onto their feet,  scrabbled round mum's leg, grabbed a teat and fought a sibling. Bowled over by their fierce determination to survive I became completely consumed by them. Which is a good thing since they don't half take a lot of time. We must have spent three hours a day running around, refencing and repenning, then doing it all over again a few hours later as their boundaries had expanded yet again.
Let me explain.........
Twiggy had five bouncing kids as I've said and this was immedately followed by Anneka (so named from Treasure Hunt's,Anneka Rice, 'cos she's a fast runner too) giving birth to hers.Anneka being a far bigger and fatter pig was expected to be the bumper producer but no such luck. Unlike Twiggy she positioned herself in a completely useless place to have them so we had to move her and once she started popping them she out went into panic mode, hopping up and down squashing them right, left and centre. Furthermore they were all little tiny runty things apart from the two stillborn and the one she jumped on so badly that the dogsbody had to dispatch it.


So by friday night they were both set up with five piglets each, but come saturday morning they were down to four piglets each. Anneka loosing one was no surprise, I thought she'd manange to squash the lot, not just the wee runt. Twiggy's loss was a shock though as her little troop had been so sturdy. One piglet was wandering around in the pen, all lost looking, so we assumed immediately that the missing piglet had walked out through the fence (they easily fit through the mesh at their current size) and then rolled off down the hill into the neighbour's overgrowth. We had a search and spoke to the neighbour, the piglet was nowhere to be seen and the neighbour suggested it had been taken by a cat, fox or polecat as there had been a crazy commotion going on at five that morning which set his hunting dogs  to bay. He told us we'd have to shut them in at night which was pretty self evident if we wanted to have any survivors.


Several hours were then spent moving shelters and fences, then little fenced alleys back to their homes to help them find their way about. Once all that was done I set about horse stuff only to hear the high pitched squeeling of a hunted piglet emerging from the neighbour's undergrowth. I legged it round the corner to find the little missing piglet upended in the bog only feet away from a drowning in his pond. Once the hardy soul was reunited with her mum after her twelve hour pioneering adventure she made a speedy recovery, though you'd be surprised how long it takes to catch up on twelve hours of milk fed growing.


This is how the days have continued; every time we fence an even bigger area they immediately begin to venture further and it has to be extended, moved or done all over again to accommodate the new arrangements.
These little guys, infact they are mostly girls, (only two boys) may look cute but they are infact hell bent on destruction, either of themselves; by going through the fence in search of  a doggy to munch them, pond to drown in or pony to be squashed by or failing that, destruction of each other.Just watch this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVNptmKWcHk

and this;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WfOv0OSq8s

The real problem is that we only wanted two piglets  to fatten for the freezer so if you know anyone needing a piglet please don't be shy. They are proper pure bred Kune Kunes (native pig to New Zealand complete with piripiris- dangly bits on the chin like a goat) but they don't and won't have paperwork as they were free to us.


A Kune boar who was about to get the axe came to us the morning of his execution to be a daddy once more.I wanted so much to save him for good but we couldn't. We didn't have the pig penned space to accommodate him and our rehoming project wasn't quite as successful as anticipated. It's a shame as he was good and friendly pig, but likewise he was four or five years old and had had a happy life, first in the UK before being imported here. So in the end it fell to our neighbour's hunting nephew to dispatch the boar to feed his hunting dogs (being an old used boar the meat is pretty tainted we've been  led to believe but I guess the doggies weren't so fussed).
Anyhow the nephew arrived with two hunting buddies one sunny morning to seal poor Kaiser's (the boar's) fate. He slumbered on, bathing in the warm sun while his doomsday marched upon him. Three keen hunters wielding knives held high were shown to his quarters but then seemed in two minds as to whether they were brave enough to go in with him or not ,despite the dogsbody's protestations that he was a quiet pet pig. The hunters found his size and rather large tasks a little daunting I fear since after a further five minutes of knife flashing and heated discussion they waltzed in and shot him! Poor Kaiser he was getting ready for an unexpected lunch, not to be an unexpected lunch.
It was however a very speedy end for him and he was totally spared all trauma of transport to the slaughterhouse and death in strange surrounds. I also suspect that parts of him live on, and not only in his kids. The neighbour had always been particularly partial to his tusks, whenever presented with an opportuntiy to chat he'd always have to bring up the huge size of Kaiser's tusks. I wouldn't be the least surprised if the poor pig's head was now mounted on his kitchen wall so that he can regal his nephew's grandkids with the splendid tale of  the great wild boar hunt of 2012 when the huge boar was eventually held at bay by his formidable team of hunting dogs, just as  the night was closing in, amidst the  deepest darkest depths of the forest. And  alone armed only with a bayonet (his ammo spent) he had no choice but to approach the savage raging beast and there alone kill him with one swift stab to the heart.
Either that or he ground the tusks up and adds a quick nip to his coffee and calva before he heads off to Tiffany's (our local nightclub) for a weekend of dance and jollity.

Enough of pigs, now to the real pig's ear;
Since living in Normandy it has become apparent in small increments that some level of farriery skill was going to have to be discovered on my part. At the beginning this was due to finding that if I lost a shoe a day before a competition, or even a week, that it was highly unlikely I'd get a farrier back here to replace it in time. Replacing a shoe quickly before the foot gets smashed up is not that hard as the nails tend to follow where they were before so it's just a matter on finding a way to clench them up. When you only have wire snips and a hammer the end result is not pretty but is effective.
Now we are in new realms altogether. I have begun (very badly as will be revealed) to shoe a couple of them myself. The main reason being that I can't find a farrier to keep the horses or me happy. I have lost so many hours of riding time with horses uncomfortable in ill fitting shoes, not least because the French style is so different. It is very upright and boxy, looks ghastly but more worryingly than that some of the horse just hate it. Two years ago Roger got to the point that he couldn't even straighten his leg properly after being shod, he'd be so forward, trembling at the knee which of course led to him tripping whilst out on rides.
Enough was enough,I thought I'd give it a go myself this  last Winter. Being lucky enough to have Dave Smith doing my shoes whilst back in the UK the first couple of sets weren't so bad as the foot grew down following his trim pattern and I only rasped tentatively to take the minimum off before reapplying a shoe from a saved summer set I knew should fairly fit. As the months have gone by his foot balance has been lost and they are no longer looking as good as I would like. However until very recently they had all been sound and not tripping so I felt like I was having a degree of success.
It's all the gear that really does it;
apron, snips, rasps,nail pull oh yeah we've got all the biz!
But all the gear, no idea,I got too cocky and so  came the pig's ear, about three weeks ago I gave Ginge a bad prick that drew blood so he has been off the road for at least a fortnight,as it made him pretty sore. Thankfully he seems to be pretty right again now so we shall see, I did a lot of poulticing but never really saw much come out  he has returned to four legs now though having scooted about on three for the better part of one whole week.
Hopefully when I go back to the UK I can get a bit of farriery tuition,I'm never about to consider it for a job, it is damn hard work (I  now know why farrier's kick horses, scream and shout – you'd be a saint not to when they're sat on top of you being awkward knowing better, no names mentioned Ginge).But it would be nice to feel I can do a set with a little competence or at least confidence when the need arises albeit with shoes already shaped and suitable for fitting.