Ol’ Spotty Wattles the Kune Kune boar was starting to move a bit stiff. He didn’t want to move around much, and when he did, he did this funny little dance with his back legs. I thought at first maybe he strained a muscle in a back leg somehow. A week passed and he didn’t seem to be improving. He ate and drank well enough, but something was off about him.
One day we’re feeding the pigs and we take a closer look at him. His back end looked all wrong. His testicles were bulging out unusually far. Curious, we went in for a closer look. To our horror we discovered that this massive bulge was not actually his testicles, but some other hard mass about the size of a softball.
I dove into hours of research online to try and discover what this could be. Our first fear was an inguinal hernia, even though from what we read it really only happens to developing piglets. So we called a small town vet, who doesn’t see pigs, but was happy to give some delicate advise; cut it open. If it’s a hernia, cut the scrotum open very carefully and try not to cut into the hernia itself. If it is a hernia, and the hernia is that big, we’ll have put him down anyway, so stand by with a pistol just in case everything goes wrong. If it’s not a hernia, it’s probably an abscess. Best case scenario we open up an abscess and drain it.
After much discussion, stress, and preparation for all possible scenarios, we calmly and casually remove the sows from the barn so Spot is alone with us. Take into consideration this is a 200lb Kune Kune boar that was hand raised on our front porch. Ol’ Spot didn’t have a mean bone in his body and he loved us dearly. I can’t say that about any other pig we’ve kept.
So my partner gets into position with a fresh, sharp razor blade on the aft-end of the pig, and I bust out the grain bucket on the mouth-end of the pig to distract him. Thankfully we had a best-case-scenario. We opened up a 1″ incision on his scrotum and copious quantities of cheese-puss immediately came bulging out. Spot didn’t even flinch, he was busy eating grain. The smell was absolutely nauseating. We had a tiny window of opportunity with the distracted boar to drain the abscess as quickly as possible, which involved massaging, milking, and squeezing out the rancid mass.
I’m sure initially the draining felt rather relieving to Spot. His testicles had been strained and squished far lower than normal (which we believe ultimately resulted in infertility, unfortunately), making it painful for him to walk. He patiently allowed us to work until most of the draining was complete- then his pain receptors kicked in. Thankfully he was small and gentle enough to hold relatively still so I could dive in with a 20cc plunger of warm antiseptic tea. I had preemptively brewed a strong usnea and basil tea and added a healthy splash of vinegar to the mix. I set the nozzle of the plunger in the incision and flushed the full plunger through. Tea belched back out of the incision mixed with blood and puss. It was really, really disgusting. Really. Really really. But it had to be done. I flushed at least 4 full plungers of tea through his wound until it was running out clean and clear. By this time Spot had also decided he’d had enough of whatever we were doing to his back end and became unmanageable.
For about a week I continued to visit his back side with my plunger and quart jar of antiseptic tea. I flushed his wound out at least once a day. Within 2 weeks it was fully healed over with hardly a scar. Our best guess is that the big dummy was scratching his butt on a sharp stick or stump and poked a small but deep hole into his scrotum. The subsequent puncture became infected. It’s possible there was woody debris encased in the puss we drained out, but we didn’t rifle through it to find out. We didn’t notice he had a problem because pig testicles normally bulge out their back side. It took the abscess brewing until it was so abnormally large that it became obvious to us. Poor Spot!
About a month later though, Spot went down again. This time he seemed like he had a serious issue. For 2 days he didn’t leave the barn. 1 day we can chalk up to his love of sleep. 2 days without food-lust is a red flag. And on day 2 the ravens began to gather. They always know when a critter is down for the count!
We once again shooed the sows out of the barn and locked ourselves in with Spot. He laid listlessly on his side. We checked his back end- no new wounds, and the old abscess was totally healed. So we got him on his feet and I knelt down to inspect his undercarriage. I found the problem!
Ol’ Spotty had once again been scratching on the wrong forest debris. This time he had an abscess around his sheath that was about the size of a golf ball. The abscess was now putting pressure on his urinary tract. He couldn’t pee. And he probably hadn’t peed since the day before. This was urgent.
So we swiftly re-enacted our procedure from a few weeks prior. A simple cut-and-drain, but this time with even more sensitivity and care due to the location. I let my partner do this cut as well, since his empathy for the situation was extra acute… He cut the abscess on the top-most edge, the farthest possible place away from Spot’s delicate anatomy. And once again Spot was a gentle, patient pig for us. Once again the relief was probably most welcome for him.
We cut him, drained him, flushed him, and got him up on his feet. He peed. And peed and peed and peed. And peed some more. And proceeded to wander down to the food trough to join the ladies, like nothing had happened. I kept an eye on him and flushed him only a few times over the next couple weeks; this was
a location I couldn’t easily get to. It’s one thing to sneak up behind him while he’s eating and give him a surprise flush in the scrotum. It’s another thing entirely to have to lie down on the ground next to him and finagle a sheath flush. So I watched for signs of re-infection and mostly just hoped his body would be able to heal without too much help from the usnea tea.
He did great and healed from both wounds without recurring infection or complication.
We did eventually have to butcher Spot, unfortunately he had a degenerative bone disease that was destroying his mobility. Poor boy. Bad genetics are a tough lot in life. You are remembered fondly, Spotty Wattles! Attached is a photo of the big lump snoozing with some chickens.