Jam sandwiches for a sick pig

jam sandwiches on a kitchen counterWe were sitting in a cafe in Sydney when the image of our pet pig came through on my phone. There she was—Mrs. D, one of our three pet kunekune pigs back home in New Zealand—with a jaw that was incredibly swollen on one side. Something wasn’t right.

CJ and I were on vacation to get a big city fix, and our friend who was housesitting had noticed Mrs. D’s jaw.

“Is this normal for her?” our friend texted.

“No,” I responded. “That is not normal.”

Even before we’d left for Australia, CJ and I had been a bit worried about Mrs. D. Usually she was our fattest pig­—bigger than her chubby brother Dougal, and certainly more voluptuous than her brawny boyfriend Kowhai. But lately she’d become lean and slender.

Mrs. D. has always been a character. She’s like an aloof supermodel who doesn’t get out of bed for anything less than $10,000. Whenever I bring the pigs dinner, she remains lounging in the sun even as Dougal and Kowhai jump up to greet me like enthusiastic puppies. She’ll open an eye and watch me, just to make sure that what I have to offer is worth her trouble. Only then does she get up. Whenever I give her a pat, she deigns to allow the interaction for just a moment before rolling her eyes and walking away.

hairy, white pig with a swollen jaw
Mrs. D and her swollen jaw

She is also old. In fact, all of our pet pigs are old now. Mrs. D and Dougal are 12, and Kowhai is 13. Kunekune pigs live to about 12 to 15 years, so we don’t really know how much longer we’ll have them around.

After seeing the image of Mrs. D’s swollen jaw, I did what anyone would do. I sent a message to Naya, Veterinarian to the Animal Stars. (All the best supermodel pigs need a doctor who understands the special burden of being so glamorous.)

If you’ve read my olive-farming memoir, you’ll know that Naya and Jeremy are the pig-farming duo from Longbush Free Range Pork. They gave us these three pet kunekunes roughly seven years ago now, so they know our pigs well.

While CJ and I were still away, Naya moved into high gear. She paid Mrs. D a visit and confirmed that our poor glamour girl had a large, firm mass on her right lower jaw. It was most likely a tooth root abscess, but possibly a tumor. Naya got Mrs. D some painkillers and antibiotics right away. I convinced myself it was just a tooth abscess and the antibiotics would clear things up.

Back home

3 pigs, with a very skinny pig in the middle
Skinny Mrs. D between Kowhai (on left) and Dougal (on right)

When we returned home to our olive grove at the edge of the world, I was shocked to see Mrs. D looking even more emaciated than ever. Her swollen jaw had been making it difficult for her to eat. Our neighbor Bob, a retired farmer who helps out with the pigs when we’re away, had been standing guard at feeding time to make sure Mrs. D got her share of food. But even so, she was withering.

I started making drug-infused jam sandwiches for her. I lined the sandwiches up in rows for the week. It felt like I was sending a kid off to summer camp. Everyone should have the experience of making jam sandwiches for a pet pig. Mrs. D loved those sandwiches and scoffed them down as quickly as her swollen jaw would allow.

It didn’t help. She became sicker than ever. Her entire jaw had started to point off to the left, misaligned by the firm mass that was growing on the right. I also found strange tumors on her belly.

Turn for the worse

On a bright Saturday morning, I found Mrs. D moping around the paddock so slowly, with her head held so low, that I was convinced it was over. When I patted her, she was oddly affectionate. She leaned into me and grunted with weary pleasure. She seemed to be seeking comfort. She was an old, skinny pig in pain.

A few days before, Naya had offered to put Mrs. D down if that’s what we chose. So on that bright Saturday morning, I sent a sad text to Naya. I told her that CJ and I would start digging a hole. Naya agreed to come the next day.

Mrs. D eating in the hayshed

In my experience, the moment you decide to put down a pet pig, they spring back to life. That’s what happened years ago with our beloved Old Lady Lucy. As a result, when Naya and Jeremy showed up on Sunday afternoon I wasn’t entirely surprised to find Mrs. D acting lively, animated, and much more like her previous, slightly superior self.

“Maybe it’s too soon,” I said.

Naya offered to sedate Mrs. D just enough to inspect her jaw. It would be clear then if it was just a tooth abscess or something worse.

We got Mrs. D into the hayshed, and Naya sedated her. It was heartbreaking to see Mrs. D fighting off the drugs, trying to stand as her legs gave out underneath her, and squealing in frustration and confusion. Once Mrs. D was out, Naya reached into her mouth and began feeling around. Mrs. D’s tongue lolled out onto the ground. When Naya pulled out her hand, there was blood on it.

“Is that your blood or Mrs D’s?” CJ asked.

“Hers.”

Naya felt around some more. When she pulled her hand out the second time, there was a dark grey thing in her palm. It looked like a small, wet stone.

“Is that her tooth?” Jeremy asked.

“No,” Naya said. “Her jaw is breaking apart in my hand. It’s terribly fragile. It’s a tumor.”

pig sleeping on a bed of straw
Mrs. D napping in the pig house

We all fell silent then—four humans standing in a hayshed around a dear pet pig that we all loved. She had bone cancer.

Earlier Jeremy had told the story about how he and Naya had brought Mrs. D and Dougal home in a shoebox twelve years ago. Mrs. D got car sick and vomited green slime everywhere. They took her home and cleaned her up. She was a tiny, frightened little piglet back then.

She had a long, pampered life. Now, here she was, a very large old lady with cancer, lying sedated at our feet, and we had to tell her goodbye.

Naya pulled out another drug. She pulled out a needle and sucked up purple liquid into a syringe. She asked me to push on the base of Mrs. D’s ear, to make the vein protrude. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. I was too upset. CJ did it. Then Naya stuck the needle into the large, floppy ear. I rubbed Mrs. D’s belly, which was rising up and down slowly. Eventually the movement stopped.

Naya, Jeremy, and CJ used an old sheet as a sling to carry Mrs. D over to the large hole that CJ and I had dug that morning. It was under the walnut tree alongside the hayshed, next to where Old Lady Lucy was buried.

They lowered Mrs. D down into the earth. I climbed down into that deep hole beside her, and arranged her feet and ears so that she looked comfortable. The smell of her hairy body and the damp soil around me filled my head. I gave her one last pat and climbed out.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” Naya said, throwing down a handful of dirt over Mrs. D’s body. The brown dirt mingled with Mrs. D’s white hair.

large, dark hole in the ground
Mrs. D’s grave

“I want to make her another jam sandwich before we bury her completely,” I said. “To send her off.”

After Naya and Jeremy left, I went into the kitchen. I pulled out the jar of boysenberry jam and the plain white bread I had bought just for Mrs. D, and I made her one last sandwich. I piled on the jam until it oozed out the edges. Mrs. D always liked lots of jam. 

CJ and I walked back out to the grave. I climbed into that hole a second time and carefully placed that gorgeous jam sandwich under her chin. Then, in total silence, CJ and I shoveled all the stony brown dirt back in, until she was gone. 

Have you had to bury a pet yourself? Tell me about it in the comments below.

31 thoughts on “Jam sandwiches for a sick pig

  1. Dear Mrs D…. I’ve been sobbing so much reading this that our dog Toro had to come and give me a cuddle. xx to her and am so glad she got a jam sandwich “to go”.
    J

  2. When I was a child we had a pet billy goat with huge horns , we used to tease him at the end of the chain he was on as he was a menace . One day he got real sick and we had to feed him raw beetroot . He turned out to be a real lovely boy but sadly we too had to bury him.
    Whether it’s a pig or goat they are still part of our family and we love them .

  3. Had to put our 16 year old Jack Russell (Poppy) down four days ago. She had suddenly got sick and had stage 4 renal failure. She was cremated in her favourite blanket. ?

  4. I was excited to have just stumbled across you again Jared after a few years away. What a very sad tale to read first off. She will have had a wonderful life with the two of you. Rest in peace Mrs D.

    1. Hello! It’s been a long time! Glad to see you’re also still at it on your blog. So nice to ‘see’ you again. Yes, Mrs. D did have a good life indeed.

  5. So sorry Jared. It is so sad to lose a pet. She was so lucky to have lived her last years with you and CJ. ?

  6. Wonderful story Jared Mrs D was very special… I too know the sadness fof losing a beloved pet…our dear friend buddy a very affectionate and intelligent cat had to be put to sleep after a suspected vehicle injury. We took comfort in a wonderful burial area with a stainless steel plaque to remember him topped by a daphne bush!

    1. I’m sorry to hear about Buddy. (By the way, that’s the name I have for my imaginary dog. I call him ‘imaginary’ because I don’t have him yet! One day…) How lucky your Buddy was to get a stainless steel plaque AND a daphne bush. Now THAT’S going out in style!

  7. Oh Jared. Talk about heartbreak ?. I swore I wasn’t going to get another pet after losing my dogs ten years ago and a cat almost four years ago. Then, a few weeks ago a kitten showed up outside my house, all alone and hungry ?. I think this little guy picked me! His name is Yoshi and he is so awesome! I forgot how magical it is to have a pet in the house. Especially a kitten!!!
    All the best Jared. Lots of love to you guys ❣️

  8. During a fairly long life, many animals have come to be with me for all too short a time, and each time one has to leave, it breaks my heart all over again. (I think my heart is tied together with twine and bits fall off each time I have to say goodbye to a beloved animal). The worst one was when our beloved Kelpie/whippet, Katie, had a massive stroke and I couldn’t be with her when she was euthanized, because of having to feed overseas visitors and get them to the airport on time. I felt guilty for years, despite knowing that Katie would understand. I cried when reading your story. I really do know how you feel, so sending love and best wishes.

    1. Nola – Thank you so much. I’m so sorry to hear that story about Katie! It must have been horrible for you. I think animals teach us a lot about death, in a good way.
      All the best,
      Jared

  9. Ohhh Jared, poor Mrs. D!! Tears are trickling down my cheek, but next thing I’m laughing, picturing Mrs D with all those jam sandwiches – what a great life! We had a Mexican walking fish called Taco. I arrived home from work one day to find our daughter Rose and son Luke in tears because Luke’s cat Fluff had fished Taco out of his bowl and decided he looked good for afternoon tea… Poor Taco was in a mess, his little transparent tummy in full view! What to do, with two hysterical children and a very, very dead looking Mexican walking fish? Why, you take them all to the vet! Two hours later, after performing his very first operation on a Mexican walking fish, the vet sent us home (free of charge) – and believe it or not Taco lived on for many years!
    Much love to you both your Aussie friends from Bundanoon, Anne & Rob.

    1. I can’t believe you took an axolotl to the vet! But I understand they can regenerate limbs, so no wonder it survived. 🙂 Glad it was a happy ending. Hope you’re both doing well.

  10. Jared – I hope MrsD has now met up with Lucy and they reminisce about the good times they had with you and CJ.

  11. Rest in peace. What a sad story. It made me think about my 2 little kitten brothers which used to like to sit on my foot. They died because of lacking mother’s warmth

  12. Lost our beloved Trey yesterday. You inspired me and we buried him with his collar and leash and lots of treats. He was a golden retriever/aussie shepherd mix and was 17. It was hard to let him go – best boy ever and my heart is aching today.

  13. Thanks Jared. It was a good article and I am comforted by my grief and I feel that I am entitled to wallow in it for a little while.

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