Dear National Pork Producers Council:



Let me first apologize for not writing sooner, because this letter is long overdue. You see, we have rescued and cared for hundreds of pigs from your industry. And when they pass, it is rarely from disease, although we do sometimes see that, too. More often, it is simply due to the physical flaws you have bred into them, viewing them not as flaws, but as benefits. At the time of euthanasia, their brilliant minds are still very much aware, but because their bodies have been so drastically altered from the way they should be, they cannot live the long lives they deserve even with the most restricted, healthiest diets.

Ellen with siblings and Mama Nikki — enjoying their first big snow!

So today I am writing to let you know about the devastating loss of two of the most amazing pigs I have ever known. Both came from industrialized farms in Iowa,the #1 pork-producing state in the U.S. — one, Kim Gordon, rescued as a baby who fell from a truck a little more than five years ago; the other, Nikki, a gestation sow who was left to die during the floods of 2008.

Nikki was such a huge love and welcomed guests, interns, and anyone who met her into her life.

Both of these pigs had a few things in common. They were both loving and friendly to people. They enjoyed long belly rubs and attention from everyone they met. And both talked when you called their names — that happy greeting which you may not know that they make, when they truly love someone. We get to hear it all the time.

Kim relaxing in the mud.

Both girls were extremely intelligent. Not only did they learn their names immediately when we started using them, but Nikki even figured out how to take gates off hinges and open latches. They both taught themselves how to hold down pumpkins with their front feet to steady them for that first bite, so they wouldn’t roll away.

This smart girl got her babies out of a crate during transport.

Both pigs loved the outdoors and spent every day outside — in the mud during the summer, and plowing through the snow during the winter. They couldn’t get enough of it. We applied sunscreen to their ears to keep them from getting the skin cancer pigs like them are prone to, since pork production requires them to be white. But that doesn’t matter — they did great outside.

Kim loved spending hours outside every day — and especially loved the sunshine and flowers of the summer.

Nikki even taught her children to love the outdoors, and ever since they were tiny babies — just a few pounds each — they too spent their days outside.

Happy dancing piglets in the grass.

They both formed very close bonds with other pigs. Kim was best pals with two other industrial females, Fiona and Joan. She was also best pals with a male named Bob Harper, who himself had fallen from a truck as a baby.

Kim and her girls Joan Jett and Fiona!

Nikki was best friends with two gestation sows: Honey, who is still with us, and Rose, who passed a few years back. (Rose, by the way, had MRSA — seems to be a big issue with the pigs coming out of your industry.) These two mothers never got to keep their babies; Rose actually lost hers in the floods, and was trying to get them up gently with her nose when we found her — but they were already dead. She was starving and had not produced milk, so the babies starved too. She was devastated and had to be force-fed, she was so upset. But then she met Nikki and her babies and was instantly drawn to them, and thankfully Nikki let her help raise them. Three gestation sows and Nikki’s babies. It was such an amazing family.

The family outside in every type of weather. These pigs love the outdoors because mama Nikki taught them to.

Both Nikki and Kim Gordon were extremely playful and spent hours making the fun “hoof hoof” sounds they make when they are being silly. Even Nikki — who looked to be around two to two and a half years old when she was rescued, and already had severe arthritis in her front elbow and in her back feet — still ran, played, splashed in mud, dug mud holes, spun around in the snow, and loved the hell out of her life.

Floppy-eared baby Kim Gordon loving the grass.

Kim would run and her ears would bounce up and down. She reminded us of a Muppet and was always so happy and smiling. They make sounds when they are content, sounds when they are playing, and sounds when they like you. You may never have heard these, but if you haven’t, you really should.



Happy talking Kim loved all kinds of weather, and loved us.

And the two pigs were also different in many ways — as all pigs are, because they are individuals.

Kim after she fell from the truck. Her body was battered and she was exhausted.

Kim Gordon was either a suckling piglet or a feeder pig — the name your industry gives to those pigs being raised for food. She was just a baby when she arrived, and even with a restricted diet, her body was so genetically flawed — by design, so that more food products could be created for human consumption from a single pig — that she had spinal issues.

Even as a baby, she was so much longer than the other pigs.

Once fully grown, she was more than seven and a half feet long, hence the breakdown of her body when she was still so young, culminating in euthanasia to keep her from suffering. She had severe arthritis in her vertebrae and she became ataxic; she could no longer use her back legs. Even on a restricted diet, this very long pig weighed more than 700 pounds, which is also due to her breeding, and again a condition created by your industry so that more meat can be produced per pig and you can make a bigger profit.

Kim’s head looks large due to her long, skinny body!

You see, wild pigs — where the pigs we know originated — have 19 vertebrae, and breeds like Kim‘s (she was a Landrace cross) have between 20 and 23. These breeds have, for a very long time, been selectively bred to enlarge the size of their bodies for increased meat production, which is the likely cause of those extra vertebrae and the extreme length of our friend Kim. She almost looked like two pigs put together, with her front half moving counter to the back half, curving into an “S” shape as she walked.

Kim was never spry due to her long body and spinal issues. She did, however, remain active up until the very end.

Kim was relatively shy as well, even though she was quite large, and she was very low on the pecking order in her herd. She was easily frightened by the other pigs and not good at defending herself — likely because she was not as agile as the shorter, stockier pigs, many of whom come from breeds other than the large industrial ones.

Shy girl Kim.

Nikki, on the other hand, was very strong and very brave. She was not only able to survive a flood in Iowa — while pregnant, no less — but she was then able to find a soft, dry place to have her babies. And although she was starving, she did not hurt her children, but instead kept them alive, even when she was so gaunt that every bone in her body was visible. And even coming from an industry like yours — most of the gestation sows we’ve rescued have been frightened of people — she was unafraid, especially when someone messed with her babies.

Mom and babies in Iowa after the rescue. Nikki was exhausted but was always an amazing mom.

To bring Nikki’s babies from Iowa to our sanctuary in New York, we were legally required to have ear tags put in. This was done by a local vet, and when we went to take them out later, we began by luring the piglets into a pen — with a very strong gate and latch. Nikki was about a half a football field’s distance away when we merely picked up the first baby, and the scream (good piglet defense mechanism) brought the already-arthritic mother barreling into the barn. She promptly yanked the gate off its hinges and broke the latch off the post, which was concreted into the floor. This protectiveness of her offspring continued until they were larger than she was.

Nikki and her crew. She was notorious for chasing anyone — human or pig — away from her tiny babies if they seemed to be trying to separate her from them.

Nikki was also a great mother in other ways. Every night, from the day they were born to this year (her babies are now older than eight years of age, and each is the same size or bigger than she was), she made them a massive nest. I know you likely don’t see pigs nest, but it is incredible. She would bring mouthful after mouthful of straw and make a thick, soft nest, and she and her children and her friend Honey would all sleep together, bodies touching, every night. It was so amazing to see.

Queen of nest-making Nikki, with Ellen running beside her.

And when Nikki had to have surgery — first on her right front foot, and then her left front foot, and then one of her back feet, due to a very resistant bacterial infection (you should probably not use so many antibiotics when raising them) and to the bones breaking down in the feet (gestation sows are kept on concrete, as you know) — her babies would always be frightened in her absence.

From left to right, Portia, Nikki, Chuck, Honey, and Ellen all asleep tight together on a cool winter’s night.

They would chomp their jaws when we came into their barn, even recently, though they are older now and bigger than their mother. She seemed to always be the reason they felt safe. And when she would return from the veterinary hospital, they would run and spin and clearly rejoice that she was home, and their sense of security would return.

Nikki coming home from the hospital was always a celebration, with everyone running and hoofing in all directions. Amazing to watch.

That did not happen this last time. Instead, we brought her home after treatment failed to euthanize her in the place she loved best. We showed her body to her babies after she had passed — just so they would know she was gone. They became very agitated, and her son Chuck was clearly the most upset.

Mama’s boy Chuck when he was a youngster — enjoying the great outdoors and licking snow off my coveralls.

So when you are working in the lab trying to come up with a way to make pigs grow larger, faster; produce more piglets; have more ribs; make more bacon — remember that every one of those pigs is a Nikki or a Kim, just waiting to be allowed to be a pig — not pork.

Sweet-faced Nikki with her battered ear, likely from being in a gestation crate and very frustrated. You can also see that she is on her knees here — she was always like that when first getting up, since she arrived with arthritis in both elbows as a result of being raised on concrete.

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Susie Coston, Farm Sanctuary National Shelter Director

This is one of my favorite pictures of Nikki and me — because it shows that she is a gentle loving being and that she is loved back.