Of milk and honey

The pigs truly are magnificent.

The first exposure to milk went splashingly, even though no milk was spilled.  I poured them a bowl, fully expecting that most of the milk would be wasted.  Instead one gilt (I promptly named her Cleo) excitedly sniffed the milk, blew bubbles, then with a delighted face laid down in the bowl, and when she opened her mouth, she tasted a few drops and wagged her tail.  It was a riot to watch.  These little pigs do not know how to drink from a bowl, since they either got their liquids from their mother's teat or a nipple waterer.  So the concept of lapping up fluid or slurping it up is not really a familiar one to them.
After watching Cleo play in the milk I used my best tool: The Helper Briard.  Decibel headed right fro the bowl and delightedly demonstrated the proper technique.  After 5 slurps I escorted her back out, and before I reached the gate the slurping began behind me.  No joke, three pigs were at the bowl, doing their best to drink up.  Hardly any milk was wasted, and the pigs only got better with subsequent feedings.

Such smart piggies!

They are very nice pigs too.  They are not overly excitable, don't fight, yet they are curious and when we let them out into the paddock, they explored it with gusto.  Even Oscar, Mayer and Ruby came to the fence to watch the little pigs scamper about.  Seriously, it was better than watching TV.

Contrary to the adage about not playing with your food, I do just that when it comes to the pigs.  Pigs that are well fed, with room to play, treated to milk, and yes, even occasionally petted or scratched are happy, and happy pigs make better hogs.  So playing with food can be a good thing.

We also worked the honey this weekend, which isn't a game; it is hard work.  We got 9 gallons of honey before we ran out of containers, which I consider a blessing.  NINE GALLONS.  I wonder just how many calories that is.  It took us two days, but most of the kitchen is no longer sticky, and I am royally tired of the sweet stuff.  Of course that only lasted until tonight, when I had some fresh baked bread, which with home made butter and Emily's honey is better than bee barf has any right to be.