There was a derecho on May 21, 2022, 6 days after the first visit. A derecho, pronounced deh-REY-cho, is a long-lived, fast-moving thunderstorm that causes widespread wind damage. It is essentially a wall of wind. What made the derecho so much more destructive for Ottawa was that we finally got rain in those 6 days, which saturated the ground. And with spring, the leaves were coming into bloom on the trees, which increased the total surface area of the tree. With the combination of the ground saturation and the increased surface area from the leaves with the strong lateral wind forces, a lot of trees and electrical poles went down.
On the advice of my wife, I brought rubber boots. These were essential as Ottawa had continuous rainfall since the derecho and the pigpen was now covered in mud. Muddy enough that you could feel the squelch as your boots sunk into the mud and then feel the suction forcing your boot to stick in the mud.
But the pigs loved that mud. They now had two mud holes. The first one was next to the water spout.
The second one was in front of their shelter and man, oh man, that was a glorious mud hole. Deep enough to wallow in; it must have been paradise for the pigs.
The pigs were now approximately 5 months old. According to Amber, these pigs could now be considered “big”. And these pigs had grown a lot since I last saw them. Before it would take a few of them to push me around. And now, one of them only had to give me a little tap.
I did ask Amber whether there should have been any behavioural changes since they’re growing up but beyond mating, no new behaviours really occur. And mating isn’t possible for the pigs as Amber buys her pigs castrated as she doesn’t want the pigs to spend energy on mating.
They were still as curious as ever too. Thankfully, this time, I brought autofocus lenses, which turned into an amusing game of ring around the rosie. I would run ahead of a pack of pigs, crouch down, watch them run at me, take my shots. Rinse and repeat.
Amber had integrated a new herd of cows into that same field. During the first visit, the cows kept their distance. Their behaviour was remarkably different this time. We actually had a stand-off this time for 15 seconds before the entire herd ran for the opposite end of the field. It happened so fast that I was confused as to the purpose of the stand-off. We were only two puny humans in front of a herd of 30 cows.
With the new cows, Amber stated that she had never had a herd as twitchy as this. However, this new herd had had their shelter destroyed during the derecho and were outside without shelter for the entire duration. It's assumed that this has led to an underlying trauma with loud noises. While she is normally able to calm and train the herd somewhat, she has more or less abandoned hope of success with this herd and does what she can to keep them healthy.
We slowly walk towards them and inch them towards their watering hole. But at a certain point, I realize that I won't be able to get any closer. They want to get away from me and honestly, I don't want to scare them anymore than I have to.
I learned that Amber was already sending two cows per week to the abattoir to be processed and butchered.
It was during this visit where I realized that I was taking portraits of the animals and attributing human emotions to them. “Hey look wifey, this picture looks like the cows are taking a school picture”.
I should probably stop doing that.
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