I raised hogs for about fourteen years. Not a huge number, my biggest year I raised 70.
My first boar was a pure bred hamp, and he was a 800 pound pet dog. Very friendly, he would follow me around, hoping to get scratched behind his ears.
After a few years, all the sows were his daughters and grand daughters, and great grand daughters.You can breed back for a few generations, but then the genetics get strange. The offspring have long noses, are scrawny, and go crazy,so it was time for Humphry to go.
I couldn't find another registered hamp immedietly, and a friend had a registered york that I bought. A york/ hamp is a good cross. The pigs are as chunky as hamps and as long as yorks.
Unfortunatly, yorks are nowhere near as mellow as hamps. And Clyde was an "AMPED" york! Very bad tempered!
Well one Saturday morning, I was casually doing chores, I saw that the water trough in the pen that Clyde was in, was turned over. I was wearing just a pair of cut offs at the time, and they were quite frayed.
I straddled the fence, to turn over the water trough, and entangled my frayed shorts in the barbed wire.
I was trying to disentangle my crotch, when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Clyde(Who weighed over 1000 pounds at this time), had his head turned sideways, and was about to chow down on my leg!
(He looked like a flippin' crocodile!)
Although my crotch was still hung up on the barbed wire, my feet were pretty well set, and I did the only thing I could do-I punched him
in the eye.
I could not have been set any better for the blow, and I must have caught him with his feet crossing.(Those of you who have been fighters know what it means to be caught with your feet crossing.) Because I cold cocked him!
His front legs folded beneath him, his tongue was laying in the dirt, and I must have twisted my fist as I hit him, because there was a large gash under his eye, and he was bleeding freely.
As I was still trying to get my testicles to a place of safety, my youngest son, who unbeknownst to me, had watched this specticle.
He was 14 at the time, six inches taller than me, and had an attitude. We had been having some problems.
He said"Remind me never to piss you off!". I said"Hold that thought"!
A few years later, I was badly injured, and had to move off the farm. When we loaded Clyde for his last ride, he weighed 1,400 pounds. And he came through the small opening between the tailgate, and the roof of a covered trailer. A fearless friend,with three foot chunk of inch and a quarter black pipe,drove him back in the trailer.
I was never so glad to send a hog to slaughter!!!!
My first boar was a pure bred hamp, and he was a 800 pound pet dog. Very friendly, he would follow me around, hoping to get scratched behind his ears.
After a few years, all the sows were his daughters and grand daughters, and great grand daughters.You can breed back for a few generations, but then the genetics get strange. The offspring have long noses, are scrawny, and go crazy,so it was time for Humphry to go.
I couldn't find another registered hamp immedietly, and a friend had a registered york that I bought. A york/ hamp is a good cross. The pigs are as chunky as hamps and as long as yorks.
Unfortunatly, yorks are nowhere near as mellow as hamps. And Clyde was an "AMPED" york! Very bad tempered!
Well one Saturday morning, I was casually doing chores, I saw that the water trough in the pen that Clyde was in, was turned over. I was wearing just a pair of cut offs at the time, and they were quite frayed.
I straddled the fence, to turn over the water trough, and entangled my frayed shorts in the barbed wire.
I was trying to disentangle my crotch, when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Clyde(Who weighed over 1000 pounds at this time), had his head turned sideways, and was about to chow down on my leg!
(He looked like a flippin' crocodile!)
Although my crotch was still hung up on the barbed wire, my feet were pretty well set, and I did the only thing I could do-I punched him
in the eye.
I could not have been set any better for the blow, and I must have caught him with his feet crossing.(Those of you who have been fighters know what it means to be caught with your feet crossing.) Because I cold cocked him!
His front legs folded beneath him, his tongue was laying in the dirt, and I must have twisted my fist as I hit him, because there was a large gash under his eye, and he was bleeding freely.
As I was still trying to get my testicles to a place of safety, my youngest son, who unbeknownst to me, had watched this specticle.
He was 14 at the time, six inches taller than me, and had an attitude. We had been having some problems.
He said"Remind me never to piss you off!". I said"Hold that thought"!
A few years later, I was badly injured, and had to move off the farm. When we loaded Clyde for his last ride, he weighed 1,400 pounds. And he came through the small opening between the tailgate, and the roof of a covered trailer. A fearless friend,with three foot chunk of inch and a quarter black pipe,drove him back in the trailer.
I was never so glad to send a hog to slaughter!!!!
