I saved a life (twice)

The Texas ice storm at the beginning of the year was not welcome.

Icy is not what Texans typically expect.

That’s a northern state kind of thing and they can keep that shit.

From inside our RV we could hear the weighed-down branches cracking and crashing to the ground.

It was non-stop and eerie. And throughout a wide-spread area branches fell on multiple electric lines.

We’d been without power for several days and my husband had jetted out to buy a generator to run our meat freezers, a heater inside and heat lamps outside.

And with our luck that was also the day our 2 sows (female pigs) went into labor and gave birth.

“I think Waddles is about to go into labor” Trey said before leaving for work. “She’s rooting around differently.”

An hour later I went to check on her and there were 9 piglets tucked up beside her warm body.

What we expected to be a cool experience with our first set of little piggies ended up being stressful + sad.

3 of them weren’t moving.

(sad I know, sorry every story isn’t sunshine + rainbows especially on a farm)

I felt terrible.

Warm tears ran down my cheeks and the girls’ rapid fire questions became agitating in a moment where I was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do.

And honestly, I thought it was some sort of defect or labor mishap.

I quickly googled everything I could and tried to use a syringe to unblock what I suspected was a clogged airway.

Of course it was the fucking cold but that didn’t occur to me in the moment.

I went to remove those three and discovered one was breathing shallow, short breaths with way too much time between them.

After a quick few steps into the RV and to the only room with heat, she had stopped breathing altogether.

I did the only thing that came to mind.

I rubbed its little body like Roger rubbed the non-responsive puppy on 101 Dalmatians.

For whatever reason I’ve always wanted to do that but not for a real life or death situation.

The natural next step followed and I placed my mouth on her soft little snout, held her mouth closed and transferred my breath into her lifeless body.

Doing two-finger compressions on her chest and repeated blows into her snout I sat in front of the heater to warm her up.

It took an hour of non-stop piggie CPR and Roger rubs but she came back.

I cut a thick sock for her to wear as a sweater and placed her and a towel in a cardboard box close to the heater.

I syringe-fed her warmed cow’s milk replacer we had on hand every couple hours throughout the day + night like a newborn.

That night as we slept we could tell she felt better because she got the zoomies and was running around the room snorting.

24 hours later we decided to put her back with her mama to get milk.

I had enclosed the front of the pen with covered pallets and a thick blanket for a door.

She drank from mama and rested under the heat lamp with the other piglets.

Trey went to check on them a short while later and found the piglet 20 feet away from the enclosed pen, alone in the cold unmoving.

When he brought her inside to me I was sad and defeated.

But I spent another non-stop hour trying to bring her back to life.

And I did.

One of the most overwhelmingly relieving feelings happened when she started to breathe regularly on her own.

Again I syringe-fed her and kept her cozy and warm.

After 36 hours or so we hesitantly placed her back in the pen with her piggie family.

Trey screwed a board across the bottom of the blanket door so that mom could still get out but the piglets would be kept in.

And it worked.

No more too-close calls.

Thank God.

I feel like many typical and seasoned farmers wouldn’t be so emotionally involved but when you’re a new farmer (rancher, whatever) and a lover of all animals it’s impossible not to.

My only regret is that I couldn’t save all three.

But this story does have a happy ending of sorts.

That sweet little piglet grew up strong and happy surrounded by her piggy fam.

And her mama, Waddles, is actually about to have her second litter any day now.

Thank God it’s not going to icy or frigid.

I look forward to those sweet little oink-oinks without all the stress that surrounded our last experience.

Some lessons are learned the hard way and that sucks but now we’re better prepared for piglets regardless of the weather.

Future mom of piggies,

Franny “The Farmer” Banani