We met Henry David Thoreau (or HDT, as he came to be known affectionately) by surprise when we took over the property in 2021. There was only a tiny blip of information about him online, and we had been told he’d passed away years earlier. As we worked to identify all 159 surrendered pigs, HDT wasn’t even on our radar as an option for matching names and faces.
But we found him. Turns out HDT was alive and well down in the Old Guys’ Neighborhood, beside Plutarch, Blue-Eyes, Silico, Sneaks, and the whole gang. He had this huge patch of blueish coloring on his shoulder that was unmistakable.
We didn’t just find HDT. We loved him. We took care of his medical needs. Trimmed the longest tusks we’d ever seen on a pig. Vaccinated him. Applied sunscreen to his damaged ears. Fed him pumpkins and apples, and med sammies for his arthritis. Helped him up every day as his back end quit on him this last year. We even dared to give him baths when his skin was irritated over the summer. He made a big enough fuss that we allowed him to flatly refuse.
The little history we had on HDT stated that he was scooped up from a North Carolina shelter in 2015, which made him a very respectable ten-year-old. We assumed, based on that history, that he had been a “truck jumper”. With approximately 1.5 BILLION pigs killed each year to be eaten, it’s a rare honor to meet one who survives the world of animal agriculture.
Elder care is a critical component of managing an enormous herd of Sanctuary Babes. We spend endless hours lovingly tending the most vulnerable of our family, and we walk them home when we feel confident they are ready.
HDT passed peacefully in his home, surrounded by his family of pigs and humans, all of whom respected him as an individual. It is an honor and a privilege to help them finish their journey in the most dignified way possible. We’ll see you on the other side, HDT sir.