Pig Farming — City Girl Goes Back to Her Roots — Part 1

I recently went on a press trip sponsored by the Animal Agriculture Alliance and the National Pork Board to tour pig farms. Yes, you heard me correctly, pig farming. Most people think I’m the epitome of prissy and have no idea I was quite the tomboy growing up. So throwing off my uniform of sundresses and cute shoes to hop into work boots was actually quite a bit of fun for this country turned city girl.

Our merry band of bloggers flew in from all over the country to Raleigh, NC, and after a luscious dinner at 18 Seaboard headed to our hotel for a nights rest before meeting the bus the next morning at 7 a.m. to drive to Clinton, NC. I’ve been a lot of places, but Clinton is not one of them. It was going back home, but only if home was a much more remote area. How remote? A lot of time my phone service was on 1x — I’ve not seen that type of coverage since I had a flip phone.

But, I digress. We were told to not dress up, wear makeup, nor shower that morning. Half-awake women, heading to breakfast, no makeup and in dire need of caffeine is never a pretty sight. Once we were caffeinated and fed, we headed to our first farm. The one where the Mama Pigs and their babies live.

This is where you need to throw your Charlotte’s Web/Old McDonald ideals out of the window. There were no overalls. No farmer with a wad of tobacco in his jaw. What we experienced, and what I went to, was a full on facility that sells their product (pigs) to processing facilities (Smithfied). It was a raw, behind the scenes look I prepared for in advance. No surprises. Complete transparency. That’s what I’m sharing here today.

The first farm we visited is where the magic happens. Cue the cheesy music. Before we got off the bus, our shoes has to be covered with plastic booties so we didn’t contaminate the soil at the farm. Safety is a huge factor — not only mine, but for the pigs. When you’re visiting a breeding farm, you don’t want to take anything in to the pigs, as a virus could wipe out an entire barn.

What did we do? We showered. Together. Head to toe. It was a bonding experience, for sure. On normal press trips, I’m usually wearing a full face of makeup, some casual accessories, and all black. On this one I got naked, rocked a white zip-up jumpsuit and big black rubber work boots with wet hair. Porcine haute couture, as it were.

As salacious as that sounds, it was all for good reason. When you arrive at a facility where pigs are bred, you’re considered to be “dirty,” until you’ve showered from head to toe and are dressed in clothes and boots that haven’t been exposed to the outside world. That also includes your under garments.

Once we were all suited and booted, we split into groups to head out on to the farm to find out exactly what happens when you’re in the commercial pork industry. Quite frankly, it was a little — underwhelming. Believe me, I’ve sat here staring at this line for over ten minutes and know that’s the word I’m looking for. My only previous pig knowledge was that of my uncle’s pigs who weren’t quite free roaming, but had quite a bit of land they made their own, and were fed “slop.”

In the breeding facility, pigs are contained in a small solo pen (farrowing crate) for safety. Now, let me explain. In this pen, they can’t turn around. For good reason. When you inseminate a pig, it’s very clinical. Kind of like basting a turkey, except this turkey weighs 300 pounds. We witnessed pig insemination and two of the bloggers in my group, Ilina and Gina, actually did the insemination (with help, of course.) The pigs card was noted and they were left in their pen as they are inseminated two days in a row to help ensure pregnancy.

How do they collect the male samples? Well, I’m not sure y’all want to hear that. But if you email me, I’ll tell you.

One of the reasons it’s essential to keep sows separated when you’re breeding is due to aggression. (Think about what you know about hormonal females.) Sows fight for dominance of a group if they are unfamiliar with each other. If they are in a group pen with former neighbors from their service crates, the fighting may be worse as they weren’t able to stake a claim for dominance while together, yet seperate. (Jerry Springer for pigs, y’all.)

While we were in the barn, we witnessed the “magic trick” performed by breeders to find out if a sow who’s been weaned is in heat again. They put a boar (male pig) on a cart and he rides by them. Imagine a king on a remote controlled litter (that’s actually what they’re called) riding by his female admirers and those seeking his amorous advances suddenly got very still and their ears perked up. That’s the sign breeders are looking for — docile sows who are in heat.

Ultrasound is used to confirm pregnancy in the sows. It doesn’t look like little piglets, just black fluid filled sacs. Sows stay in the gestation/farrowing crates for 21 days in order to protect the fetuses (see sow dominance above) and are then moved to group housing with 2-4 other sows where they’ll live until right before they give birth.

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This is part one in my series “City Girl Goes Back to Her Roots.” I’ll be posting part two tomorrow; it’s all about the babies. Many thanks to the National Pork Board, the Animal Agriculture Alliance and Prestage Farms for opening their doors to us and answering our questions, no matter how uncomfortable they might have been.