In August 2024, three four-month-old pig brothers were sent to the University of Tennessee for veterinarian-assisted neutering. Once they arrived, the team discovered that all three boys had cryptorchidism.
Cryptorchidism means their testicles had not descended into the scrotum. In the highly technical language of Odd Man Inn: all three brothers had trapped nuggets.
Six trapped nuggets! What are the odds? Now, this is where we need to back up for a minute.
Male pigs born into animal agriculture are typically neutered when they are only a few days old. Hospitals aren’t usually involved. The procedure commonly happens right there on farms, large and small, without any anesthesia or pain relief.
Why?
As boy pigs mature, testosterone-related compounds can create what the industry calls “boar taint”—an odor and flavor humans find undesirable.
In plain English: testosterone makes their bodies less valuable.
In animal agriculture, decisions about life and death are often shaped by cost and return.
Removing six trapped nuggets would require advanced surgery in an operating room under general anesthesia. For their owner, that expense no longer made economic sense.
So he requested that all three boys be euthanized.
Someone Asked Another Question
At that point, the veterinary team at UT could have proceeded with euthanasia.
Instead, they advocated for the boys.
Kati, one of our lead vet techs, asked their owner whether he would be willing to surrender them if somewhere else could be found for them to go.
He agreed, and Kati called Odd Man Inn from the hospital. She explained that three young Yorkshire boys were facing euthanasia. If we could make room for them, their lives could be spared. This decision was being made from the bedside.
“Three?”
We had questions. But we knew the answer.
“Yes. Yes, we do.”
Welcome, Star Wars Babes
As soon as we said yes, the boys immediately began receiving the FULL Sanctuary Babe treatment: fecal testing, blood work, vaccines, microchips, and the advanced medical care necessary to free all six trapped nuggets.
Because the veterinary team had played such an essential role in advocating for their lives, we invited them to choose the boys’ names. They went with a Star Wars theme.
The boys received their surgeries one at a time. Two nuggets freed became four. Four became six. Eventually, every last nugget was liberated.
But the surgeries were only one part of their story.
The Compassionate Care Award
We work beside an extraordinary veterinary team at the University of Tennessee. They help us navigate complicated medical cases, emergencies, scheduling limitations, and the unique realities of providing lifelong care to a very large family of rescued pigs.
We wanted a meaningful way to recognize individuals within that team who demonstrate an exceptional commitment to the compassionate care of farmed animals.
That is how the annual Odd Man Inn Compassionate Care Award was born.
For the award’s first year, we honored Kati.
Beyond being part of the team that secured their surrender—and the person who called us on behalf of the Star Wars Babes—Kati plays an essential role in helping us manage university scheduling and navigate a complicated medical system.
She answers questions, helps us work through limitations, and makes critical services easier for our Sanctuary Babes to access. Every time we arrive, she makes us feel as though the red carpet has been rolled out for them.
The award was our way of saying that one phone call mattered, but so did everything Kati had done before that call and everything she continues to do for our Sanctuary Babes.
We presented her with a basket filled with thoughtful gifts from all of us at Odd Man Inn. It was not a giant, fancy production. It was simply a tangible expression of our appreciation and gratitude.
As the first recipient, Kati was also given another important responsibility: keeping her eyes open for the next person who deserved to be recognized.
That is how we hope the tradition continues. One compassionate caregiver recognizing another.
One Person Has to Speak Up
Sanctuary stories can appear miraculous when we tell them after the fact. Three pigs were facing euthanasia. Then a phone call happened. Now, they are enormous, happy, deeply loved Pinkies getting fussed over for sunscreen and hoof trims.
But there was nothing inevitable about that outcome.
Every rescue begins at a moment when someone has to make a choice. Someone has to notice. Someone has to care. Someone has to ask the uncomfortable question, make the phone call, or say, “Can we find another way?”
Compassion is not passive. It is something we practice.
For the Star Wars Babes, compassion looked like a veterinary team that did not want to see three healthy babies euthanized. It looked like recognizing that they deserved to live—no other qualifiers needed, and regardless of what their bodies could produce for us humans.
That is what our Compassionate Care Award honors: not simply kindness as an idea, but compassion put into action.
What changed was not who they were, but how we CHOSE to treat them.
