There it is!

Looks a bit like a gravestone.... but there it is. The New Ark door. You can just see a piece of blue baling twine attached to the door bolt. One morning last week we found Mangel and his mates 'playing' with the door. They'd managed to undo the hook (clearly visible on the door) and were swinging the door to and fro. We assumed they were having a problem with it... like it wouldn't stay open. So we intervened and tied it back in place using the blue baling twine.

No sooner had I exited the pen and turned my back than one, or all, of them had untied the twine and the door was being pushed to and fro again.

Did they want it....

(a) open or closed?

(b) just out of the way?

(c) gone?

Or (d) was it just a game?

Well... three was no way of knowing.

So I went and intervened; tied the door back again.

When I went out to fetch the horses in from the field, barely an hour later, there was a great kerfuffle and snorting going on in the pigs' pen.

On investigation I found the three boys (Ginger watching from the wings) merrily bashing the, now totally detached, door into the mud with all the vigour they could muster. Clearly the answer was (c) [or possibly (d)] above.

So I retrieved the door and put it out of fun's way!

And all the piggies went inside the ark and flopped out on the floor - exhausted or just pleased they'd managed to communicate with these dumb humans. Who knows?

The door - continued

Here you can see Pepper and his pals relaxing in their new ark, with the sunshine pouring through the door way. But where is the door? The door that was clearly visible yesterday?

Ah, well... thereby hangs a tail (as they say...)

The door....

Clearly here the new ark has a perfectly good door.....

Watch this space

A little rhyme - part 1

Seven Little Piglets all in a row

Little Polly Piglet* was the first to go...

*she's the one in front in the middle!

Little Polly Piglet moves to pastures new

At just 8 weeks and 2 days old, Little Polly Piglet is the first to leave home. Having started off as the meekest of the litter, she has grown to be one of the strongest - and certainly the most inquisitive. She is shown here with her new Boss, Mr James Barclay, who lives at Stixwould (and also with both her to-date Big Boss and her new Boss).

James comes from a revered foxhunting family - he was Master of our Southwold Hunt (kennelled just a mile away from The Rectoryreserve) at the turn of this Century - but now concentrates his formidable energies on breeding and promoting rare breeds. 'Polly' will join a family of Lincolnshire Red cattle, Lincolnshire Longwool sheep and Gloucester Old Spot pigs. Like ourselves, James is very keen to 're-introduce' the curly coat pig to Lincolnshire and Polly will form the foundation of his future curly coat herd. Thus she will remain a much loved and revered pig.

She'll like that.

But we are all sad to see the first of our piglets leave home.

The remainder of the litter are quite subdued without her.

As are we.

Mud, Glorious Mud!

It's been just over a week since the piglets were weaned and, as far as Ginger is concerned, life has returned to normal. Which is not to say that she took the weaning totally in her stride.

We left her happily trolling around with the boys that evening and she gave no visible indication that she was in the least bit perturbed. Quite the contrary. We went to bed quite relaxed, having checked them all around 10pm. Not even a tiny grunt emerged.

Next morning we were more than surprised when she greeted us from her farrowing pen. Which we had closed all access to. We thought.

On closer inspection we noticed that the fence (where you can see the hurdle in the picture) was rather dented. She had obviously clambered over it. From there she had gone on quite a long investigative journey (her trail clearly betrayed by the well rootled earth) - around the Poultry Palace, up towards the bantams, down the bridleway towards the Nasty Giant's premises and back again to the farrowing pen, which - it would seem - she entered by forcing her way through the gate (which we stupid humans had closed only with the top bolt). But she had been nowhere near the piglets.......

So we opened up access to the all pens again. We'll think about resting them when the wet weather had passed.

Meanwhile, we have lots of gloopy mud everywhere. Ginger is no less beautiful; in fact, they all seem to be quite enjoying the inevitable squelching and slooshing around. (They at least don't have to worry about losing their wellies in the mud).When they've had enough, they retreat to their ark (the new one is the current favourite) and roll around in the straw till they are, almost, clean again. Mealtimes pose a bit of a problem. They always want to eat out of the same bowl; that leads to argument and, invariably, the bowl gets tipped up - food submerges into the gloop and, hey presto, they move to the next bowl and repeat the process. No wonder we are getting through so many sacks of food!

Roll on spring.

There's no smoke without fire.....

There's no such thing as 'rumour' and 'maybe' amongst animals - just 'fact' and 'today'. So Friday arrived - not a very nice day weatherwise - bit misty and 'promising 'rain. But there was an air of great excitement about the place nonetheless.

Soon after breakfast two very nice men (Tom and his mate) from Little Morton Farm arrived with a load of bits on their lorry. Two hours (and no small amount of grunting, groaning, drilling and heaving) later, the new Ark appeared in all its splendour. At which point, Will and Lucas - as if on cue - arrived to lend their very capable hands to the other exciting task of the day: Weaning.

Well, we were a little bit worried. Thought it was just a bit traumatic separating mum from her little ones. So we had it all planned. Let Ginger return to her pals at breakfast time whilst the babies were still asleep. Then shut them in their ark. Then pick them up and move them one by one to the Old Stalls. Trouble was, she decided to have a lie-in, what with the rain and all. So that didn't work. But whilst the excitement of the ark building was going on we opened the gate through to the boys. Piglets still asleep. Disturbed by all the noise, Ginger eventually got up. Did what pigs usually do when they get up. Then looked around. Saw the opening. Ambled through. Calm as you like. We shut the gate.

And then it was like all hell let loose.

It wasn't easy to tell who was greeting who and most pleased to see whichever; but what a noise; and charging about; and bumping into each other; and bumbling from one ark to another. And then it all became clear; Pepper and Wurzel had said their bit.

Mangel and Ginger had more serious things on their mind.

Before we could work out what was going on, off they ambled - quickly - to their old large ark and the humphing and grunting had to be heard to be believed. Well! Everyone in the yard - including the ducks - stopped dead in their tracks --- and fell about laughing. Three months, three weeks and three days from the 12th January we will be heralding the arrival of the next offspring.......... They say pigs like a good roll in the hay, but we thought that was just a load of hogwash!

So much for worrying about weaning.

"Piglets?" "What piglets?" said Ginger.

So Will and Lucas and Himself set about it and in no time at all - accompanied by quite a lot of squealing, slipping, sliding and diving (it was seriously "slarmy" (as they say around these parts) in the pig pen)-seven little piglets were caught, held and carried to the old stalls.

Interesting to note that, whilst they squeal blue murder when first picked up, as soon as they are firmly held - cuddled even - they fall silent and seem thoroughly to enjoy the occasion.

Taking advantage of their semi-comatose state of 'cuddle' , regulatory (pink) eartags were inserted - to which all bar one paid no attention at all! (We had a computer chap here this afternoon; looking through the photos whilst fixing something technical, he remarked on seeing the pink tabs; "Why do they have dummies in their ears instead of in their mouths?") Then they were snuggling down in the straw, sniffing and chewing; then darting wildly around and exploring every corner before collapsing in a pile of piglets - excited, exhausted and ---------- fast asleep.

"Trauma?" What trauma?"

Grunting and Gossiping - again!

"Bet you don't know what Ginger's saying" said Gunner

"I thought all she said these days was 'Where's my tea?' and 'get out of my way young snorters' and 'For the Great Hog's sake, stop squealing' " said Mangel

"That's what she says when you lot are listening. What she said to me and my mate Pilot was that it's not going to be too long till she's her own boss again."

"What do you mean?" said Wurzel "Only one boss around here - apart from The Big Boss, of course."

"Well, the other evening when she was waiting for Him to make her dinner, she gruntled to me that if she were in the wild, she'd have got shot of them by now. Not that she's not very fond of them, she said, but a sow's got to have a bit of peace and quiet from time to time and there is no way there's any of that with 7 little squealers around all the time."

"Hmmmm" said Mangel thoughtfully

"Now what's going on in that pig head of yours?" asked Wurzel

"Never you mind; just hmmmmmmm" said Mangel in a very cheerful manner. "I thought I felt a touch of spring in the air only yesterday."

"What's it got to do with spring?" asked Gunner quizzically.

"Damned if I know" said Wurzel "Feels pretty much like midwinter to me!"

"You two can stay here and gossip all you like; I've got to go and have a word with those big blokes down in the field. Ask them if they've heard anything. They keep telling me how smart they are - let's go hear what they know......"

"Ponies meet pigs? No problem" say Pepper and Puppy

It's been exactly two weeks since the pigs' new pen was officially declared open for business. And it's been exactly the same amount of time since the 'ponies' have been excluded from the Church Field which abuts the pigs' new pen.

Why? Well, everyone knows (or at least the wisdom handed down says) that pigs and ponies do not get on. I know this for a fact since the occasion some three years back when when I innocently rode Rocco past a field full of Large Whites. Before I knew where I was, my normally sane, laid back horse had turned into a snorting, pouncing bundle of nerves; it proved impossible to ride him a single stride forward or back; as a last resort I jumped off his back and led him, at his own very fast and whirling pace, to a 'position of safety' a mile down the road. To this day, he will not go past that field without snorting and skitting about - and the pigs have been gone these two years past!

So, with no little trepidation I picked my moment in the middle of the morning when I knew the pigs were having a post-breakfast snooze in their ark. On seeing the open gate between the fields, the ponies merrily trotted through, oblivious of the surprise in store - more interested in chewing the fresh pasture than examining their surroundings. It wasn't long though before Mangel sensed something on the edge of his territory and came snorting and rumbling down to investigate. "What's that?" said Rocco, Ritz and Max. Up went their heads ... and their tails ... and their heels -- and off they charged to meet the strange creature.

For a short while they pretended they were scared; cantering close, then charging away with their heads held high and nostrils flaring. But curiosity drew them ever closer... and closer.... and within less than 15 minutes they were all nose to nose, sniffing and snuffling and nibbling and nuzzling........ Mangel made a bit of a show of digging into and defending his territory but really he was much more interested in exchanging views with his new found friends. Wurzel stayed well back in the copse; better let the Big Boar break all the ice and make sure it was quite safe before venturing any closer.

Meanwhile, Pepper and the Puppy were having a good old gossip about... well, about things that pigs and puppies have to gossip about. Probably how fast piglets grow and why all these humans always make a big fuss about nothing.....

For the next three hours the horses remained totally mesmerised by their porcine neighbours, only moving away when I called them home for tea. And even then I had to lead one away before the rest followed...

Problem? What problem......