Rescue & Adoptions

In Loving Memory

Floyd

With huge, bat-like ears and a gentle demeanor, Floyd was a favorite among California Shelter staff and visitors. We lost Floyd late last summer due to complications related to genetic modifications and breeding so common in factory-farmed pigs.

Floyd never knew a home other than our California Shelter, where he spent 11 wonderful years among rolling hills, comfy barns and the love and companionship of staff, visitors and animals alike.

Floyd came from strong roots. His mother was a fighter, found pregnant and abandoned with several other expecting sows wandering a Nevada town. She survived on what small amounts of food and water she could scavenge in locals' yards, causing some to complain to the town sheriff. Learning of the plight of the mothers-to-be, the sheriff came up with a solution: shoot and kill the animals on sight.

But the Nevada Humane Society intervened, sparing the lives of the pregnant sows, and, by extension, sparing Floyd.

At our California Shelter, Floyd enjoyed a life his mother could only have dreamed about. Doted on by sanctuary staff and visitors since he was a piglet, Floyd always knew the love and care compassionate people can provide. He was always ready for a belly rub-and for food. Floyd loved produce-bananas and apples were among his favorites-and also enjoyed peanut butter sandwiches. He'd hold his mouth open, politely waiting for the goodies to be dropped in. He also loved water, drinking it straight from the hose. Floyd was the most hydrated pig on the farm.

Floyd lived in the barn behind the intern house. It turned out to be a fortuitous location, because few loved Floyd more than the inhabitants of that house. It became an intern tradition to snuggle up close to Floyd in the barn, his happy grunts vocalizing his contentment.

But as well as the interns knew him, Floyd's best friend, Connell, knew him even better. The pair arrived at our California Shelter together, having experienced a shared origin. They were inseparable-always side-by-side, enjoying the cool mud of the pig pond and napping on the comfy straw in the barn.

We said goodbye to Connell not long after Floyd.

As Floyd aged, he began to have more difficulty moving around. Anti-inflammatory medication and pain relievers kept him comfortable for a while, but eventually the pain became too great. In July, his condition worsened, and the normally jovial, treat-loving Floyd became depressed and refused to eat. His body seemed to be shutting down.

The veterinarian surmised that Floyd was suffering from a spinal injury. Many pigs bred for factory farms often suffer from skeletal afflictions. According to agribusiness, the less time spent in growing the animal to slaughter weight, the higher the profit. Normally killed by their six-month birthday, factory-farmed pigs never reach adulthood, unless they are rescued. At 11 years of age, Floyd's growth reflected his abnormal breeding, putting debilitating stress on his skeletal system. This elderly pig would not recover.

It was difficult for us to let him go, but we knew we had to stay by his side, giving one last gift of companionship and love as he slipped away.

With his fuzzy ears, tender ways and zest for life, this gentle pig captured the hearts of staff and visitors alike. Floyd will be missed; his memory cherished as wholly and completely as he lived his life.