Billie

 Today we've said goodbye to our Billie

I remember the day we bought her home, 14 years ago, in one of the small cat carriers. Which she fitted in, with room to spare. Her sister, was a bit delayed, the other piglet originally put aside from us wasn't well and Lillie was being neutered and we'd go and get her a couple of weeks later.

In the meantime we got Billie home, and settled into her new home, layered in straw and made as comfortable as we could make it. She promptly laid down and went to sleep, but when I went back to check on her 15 minutes later I nearly had a fit - couldn't see her anywhere in the shed. Until she suddenly emerged from under the straw and bounced around at me - telegraphing the behaviour of a lifetime. The number of times in the intervening years where she's frightened the living daylights out of us by disappearing from sight, reappearing with no notice and frankly, you don't want to know the slight feeling of panic that comes from the sight of a piggie running straight at you.

Like the night they both went missing and we hunted the area looking for them for hours. Only to return home pigless and bereft - we thought they'd gone for good. Only there was a bag of manure that wasn't where it used to be, and then there was the snuffling noises coming down the drive half an hour later as they both trotted home - very proud of themselves. Which lead to the development of a huge moveable pen and the shenanigans involved in moving it, and them on a regular basis, until they aged and we all agreed they could free range. Which meant our back dam has been substantially altered, the shelter shed out in the paddock is now somewhat more "airy" than it used to be with the back wall obviously considered surplus to requirements, and on the never-ending saga of crazy went.

Until 8 months ago when we found Billie lying in a wallow, unable to get up. Long story short - torn cruciate liagment and not a lot of options. Our wonderful vets gave us pain relief, and then got in touch with the equally magnificent Pam Ahern at Edgar's Mission who provided some excellent suggestions for managing potential pain and building some strength so we've kept her limping along, happy, and eating well, confined to a largish pen though, until this weekend. When the other back leg gave out as well and she was unable to stand. Which meant unable to toilet properly and pigs (contrary to the bullshit myths) are incredibly fastidious and clean creatures. So she was okay with not being able to move much but keeping her clean wasn't possible. Plus it's no life if she can't move at all. So we booked the vets and the bloke with the excavator for this afternoon and steeled ourselves.

This weekend she's eaten all the fruit (she was not allowed fruit to keep her weight down), and himself developed a porridge cake with dried fruit which she bloody loved - and got a lot of over the last few days, until our kind and very compassionate vet came today to euthanase her and the equally wonderful, kind and very caring Jason came down from St Arnaud with his excavator to bury her beside Pascoe the alpaca who died earlier in the year.

She leaves behind a very big piggie shaped hole in our lives, but one that left us with lasting changes in how we see "farmed" animals.

That's her, buried in some straw with her sister.

And her on the left lying down - her favourite position.

And because there's nothing like a bit of embarrassment, she had to be knocked out sometimes so we could do a pedicure on her tootsies. She snored. A lot, when under the influence of anaesthetic.