This post has been a long week and more in the making.
This year Emma wanted to show a pig for 4-H again. Now that we have a whole lot of room, and no longer live "in town," we thought we'd adopt a couple of pigs. I guess pigs like company.
After work a couple days in a row, Ryan built a pig pen. Then on Saturday, he loaded Emma and a pig box into his truck (Emma got to sit in the cab, luckily), we
purchased adopted some pigs. Ryan actually picked up three; one being for another FFA project. He brought them home, and all was hunky-dory. The kids thought the pigs were cute, and spent half the day in the pig pen.
When it was dark, Ryan and I went out to check on the pigs, and to make sure they made it into the lean-to "house" to stay warm for the night. Ryan chased 2 of the pigs into their bed, but one wouldn't move.
He thought maybe its legs were asleep.
The next morning, it still couldn't move.
Things progressed, and we ended up separating the pigs, for quarantine purposes. Ryan talked to a veterinarian, and we got antibiotics and steroid shots. We also used our turkey baster to try to get fluid into the pig.
The last couple of days, the pig just laid there in his box, twitching and looking absolutely miserable. I felt awful every time I checked on him.
He died today.
We never named him.