Rosso & Grosso

Handy to have about the place then!

awww, they are adorable!

aw,I just love these...your own rotovaters! Lol.

oh, they are lovely, nice to watch and listen to, munching around the grass. Even better that you raised them.

lovely piggies :o)

I love pigs. We wanted a couple when we had the smallholding but weren't allowed to keep them for some reason.

Yes, they were lovely. It was just something we felt we had to try. I must admit they were a bit of a handful, and a lot of work and a lot of internet browsing went on, trying to find out what we were supposed to be doing. We were told that because they were being raised in a national park, where wild boar roam, we shouldn't have females, or the boar would break down even electric fences in attempt to get to them, and then when we bought male piglets, we should have had them castrated, but we couldn't bring ourselves to do it to them, and the cost would have made our eyes water almost as much as theirs. We raised them with friends, and decided together that it wasn't a good idea to give them names, or we'd all become too attached to them, but we had to call them something, so they became Rosso and Grosso - Red & Big. We put a football in their enclosure - I tell you, those pigs could have played for Lazio. Towards the end, when they became really big, they got a bit threatening, if only because they could knock you over in their enthusiastic attempts to get at the food. Such intelligent creatures, pigs - you'll never get one over on a pig.
I can't understand why you weren't allowed to keep pigs on your smallholding, Lindak. Such a shame - you would have enjoyed it.

...and they are very intelligent and have very much common with humans - for instance sequence of insulin peptide chain.Lol. I love them. Some American actors love them too. Lol. I hope they are still alive.

Sadly, Katarina, they were slaughtered and eaten a year ago - there isn't much place for sentiment in the farming world. They were never intended as pets. We gave them the best possible life that we could, and made sure that their last moments were as happy and calm as possible, and said goodbye in true soppy British fashion. I have to say, though, in mitigation, they rewarded us handsomely with the most incredibly delicious meat we have ever tasted. We shan't be repeating the exercise, though.

at Easter time they used to kill the pigs in the street where I lived near Foggia. The whole family participated from the youngest blowing up the lungs & stirring the blood as it poured into a large bowl to the girls burning the hairs off with flaming swiches of twigs & the lads cleaning the skin with razors. It was then hoisted up by the back legs & the elders would butcher it. The cheaper cuts were given to the poorer families, a real caring community. They would then buy another piglet & raise it for a year starting the whole process again. I used to see them walking their family pig in the streets in the evening just like a dog. No collar or lead needed, just a thin stick which they would gently tap the animal for directions on their walkies. It certainly was an eye opener but the whole process was conducted without sentiment & very dignified & respectful from everyone.

How long were you living in Italy, Bampy? We live in an old village schoolhouse, and even that had the "porcile" attached to it. Not many people keep pigs for their own consumption any more, but things have obviously changed. The amount of paperwork we had to collect, fill in, sign, send off, etc., just to keep a couple of pigs was incredible. Almost enough to put you off. No-one would be allowed to kill the pigs themselves these days, unless licensed, I expect, and that, I guess, would be pretty rare. The pork was unbelievably good, though. Happy pigs make good meat, they say. And they were.

Yes the paperwork is unbelievable, but then there is so much red tape attached to everything in France too...they love their paperwork...
We now have gifts from the neighbours of Grouse, and sides of Wild Boar, when Hunting season is on, which is now...and the Boar is so good...I don't eat the grouse, prefer it running around rather than on a plate, but OH does all the necessary, cooks and freezes them, and I stay out of the Kitchen....Same with Chickens, eggs yes, killed for meat no...We reared our own Sheep, bottle fed him, but could not eat him, so he was swapped for a slaughtered and jointed sheep...when the time came...

I do wish the locals would offer us sides of wild boar, Crissue - they shoot plenty round here, and we hear their guns every morning down in the valley, but the best we get is bags of chopped, butchered meat, which they have already soaked overnight for us to get rid of all the blood. It's ok, but to us, who are used to our game properly hung and quite "gamey" for roasting, it's a big disappointment. When the pigs were sent to the slaughterhouse, we asked if they would leave them unbutchered so we could choose how and which cuts to make, "All'inglese". I can't imagine many people have had a very highly qualified surgeon (our friend and co-pig raiser), with a proper set of tools, butchering sides of pork on their kitchen table, with buckets to catch all the bits, and boxes full of salt for the curing, 3 freezers bursting at the seams and a dozen frantic cats clawing at the windows, trying to get in to help us. Oh, and Christmas carols from Kings playing on the television/radio. It was quite surreal.
We would dearly love to raise our own sheep for meat, but we don't have the land or the expertise, and the climate just wouldn't suit them. We considered goats, but we've heard such appalling horror stories about the problems of goat-rearing that we haven't bothered. I couldn't possibly eat something that I had bottle-fed, either. My nephew, when small, would regularly walk with his mummy past fields full of lambs, and we are told (not sure about my brother's powers of invention here) that some of his first words were "Am tops!" (Lamb chops) He's a commodities dealer out in Dubai now, so perhaps an early lack of emotion stood him in good stead.