January 1, 2021
I spent way too much time this week pondering the inner thinkings of pigs and chickens... Trying to ascertain why they do the things they do, instead of just doing what I want them to do. My requests are pretty straightforward, I want the chickens to lay eggs, and I want them to lay those eggs where I (the one who purchases their feed) can find them before the pigs have eaten them. Pretty basic stuff.
And with the pigs- I'd happily settle for them just not undoing whatever it is I've just done. Stop unplanting the things I plant, stop unfencing the areas that I just fenced. It's not a lot to ask.
And what I have concluded after all of my pondering is - that the real problem with free range chickens is - they are free to range. And part of free ranging is the freedom to choose where they lay their eggs. So in an attempt to make our nest boxes the place they choose – I built them new boxes and new roosts. I gave them new lighting, a new timer, a new water dish (one they don't have to share with the pigs), a new feeder, and some tasty new feed. I supplied them with extra fat, extra protein, extra calcium. I filled the coop with new hay, and the boxes with new wood shavings. To no avail. Last winter I gave up and set up our barbecue in full view of the coop. That didn't work either, but it made me feel better.
And as for the pigs, their biggest problem is they have the physique of a linebacker on steroids, and the frontal lobe, and temperament, of an impulsive 2 year old. That alone is why most people chose not to spend much time with them.
Pigs are actually born with the potential to be the greatest farmers the earth has ever seen. They come endowed with a herculean strength snout on the front end, which they can dexterously operate like a plow. They were also gifted with an extremely prolific and efficient manure spreader on the back end. Their pointy hooves are perfect for aerating, and drilling seed, into New England's clay encrusted hard pan soils. They are in fact born with all the right physical attributes, but they lack any ability to reason, plan, hope or dream - and that is what makes a farmer a farmer.
I planted those mulberry trees with them in mind, a vision of a bountiful supply of fruit for them to eat- and they unplanted them. So I replanted them, in a more “secure location” and they unplanted them again – for no particularly good reason. Even for a pig, it's obnoxious, and counterproductive. Like a 401k – if they would just leave the saplings alone, they would grow and in about 5 years (just about a pigs retirement age) they could lay under the shade of those very same trees and eat all the berries they might want. Trying to explain that to a pig, however, is like discussing the nuances of delayed gratification with a toddler.
So as Anne and I close the books on 2020 and try our best to plan for 2021 we will be sure to budget plenty of time to fluff the chicken's bedding and replant the mulberries (again)... Because no matter how futile it might seem, we are farmers and we'll never stop dreaming and planning. And the pigs? They'll never stop being pigs.