Every spring I go out and buy a new tractor. I get to run it around the garden from May to November. It breaks ground, raises rocks, spreads manure, and builds up the soil. Then, around Thanksgiving, we eat the tractor. Or part of it anyway. The rest we brine, smoke and freeze. We call it the pig tractor.
Pig tractors run about 35 bucks nowadays, but I remember when you could get one for about half that. That was before so many gardeners and small farmers wanted one. Used to be just farmers raising hogs in the barn. Now everybody wants the one-pig- power garden cultivator, and they fetch a fat price.
It’s worth it. Around May Day you pick up a freshly weaned shoat, hocks thin as cooking spoons and bristles just beginning to thicken. Your brand new piglet can’t weigh much more than 25 pounds. But by Thanksgiving, well maintained and fueled, he’ll dress out to ten times that, not counting scrapple. That’s the astounding thing about a pig tractor. He starts out barely strong enough to hoe dandelions and finishes up plowing 50-pound stones.
Who ever heard of a rototiller that gained power as it grew older? As far as parking goes, a pig tractor doesn’t need much. That’s the point. We keep ours in an 8-x-10-foot pen framed of scrap lumber and light balsam poles cut from the woods. If the pen gets much bigger, it grows unwieldy. There’s no need to anchor it because the pen must be mobile.
Indeed the pig is mightier than the plow. As I rotate the pig tractor over sod or garden soil, the land is fertilized and tilled. Roots and stones are unearthed, and we clear them away. The pig gains weight and good health on idle land and, eventually, so do we. There’s no hassle with manure handling, ventilation, barn building or fencing. One scavenger I know put together a pig pen of surplus bedsprings. Another linked fence panels with wire loops so he can maneuver the pen alone, lifting once side at a time. It’s not important to build a gate. If I must go in, I climb the fence. For watering, we lower a bucket into a heavy wood frame so it’s well anchored and easy to clean and refill.
A couple of points on pig tractor design. Space the fencing tight enough to keep the little pig from getting his head stuck. You’ll hear about it if you don’t. And make sure that the roof won’t tip rain water back into his plot. A  removable  top allows for pitch adjustments on different slopes. Most of all, keep it lightweight. Ellen and I can easily lift the pen and move it the requisite 10 feet per trip, after we take down the convertible top.
The pig tractor doesn’t guzzle expensive fuels, but he does need daily maintenance and water. We mix his grain 4:1 provender to soy meal and add a little powdered milk and kitchen scraps. For greens we grow him a row of Swiss chard and add thinnings from the garden and herb patch. We steer clear of medicated feeds and have yet to call the vet. When there’s a surplus of eggs from the hens, the pig tractor gets his share. It we eat out, we always ask for a piggy bag for leftovers.
Altogether, I figure it costs about $125 for fuel, plus a little extra for the salt-and-maple-syrup brine and freezer paper. Figuring in the cost of the piglet, the total comes to roughly $165 or about a buck a pound. The swineherd who sells us a pig every spring claims he can raise a pig tractor for $50. “Leftovers, friend, that’s where it’s at!â€
Our swineherd is a master of recycling. Last year he named his pig Pepperoni. It grew on leftovers from the local pizzeria. In fact, he tells me there’s a waiting list for scraps at neighboring restaurants. But we’re  sticking  with  grain  and  vegetables.  Who  needs  a carnivorous tractor? Look what happened to my neighbor, Mr. B. He fed his pig meat scraps. One day his favorite Muscovy duck took a walk down to the pig pen and never came back. Needless to say, the pig was off limits to B’s kids after that.
Ok, say you’ve got your pig tractor started and you’re ready to plow. Nothing to it. To keep your engine chugging along, here are some helpful techniques I’ve learned. On a slope, always plow uphill. Then, each time you move ahead, set up the pig tractor with the roof and bed on the high end of the pen. At the opposite end, you’ll see the pig set up his privy, where rainfall and manure runoff will stream downhill. Now your pig tractor will always have a clean garage.
To keep from flooding your engine, steer clear of waterways. But not too far. For efficient cooling, it’s best to run a pig tractor near a water source. Ours works best in a garden sited below the pond. Every year we rotate him through a fallow patch about a third the size of the garden, and the plot constantly thickens. His drinking water comes down by gravity flow through the same hose that irrigates the vegetables. Over the growing season a pig tractor spreads  several  hundred  pounds  of  manure.  To  improve  the composting process, I layer the fresh manure with mulch hay every few days. This helps the manure break down in the soil without becoming impacted. It also keeps down flies and aroma. To save hay, I pitch old bedding into the pig privy.
We drive the pig tractor slowly at the start, but by midseason he’s moving every week. A well-oiled pig tractor runs smoothest. This summer, Pig
Tractor III grew the smoothest hide and softest bristles in the valley because Ellen gave him a spring oiling. It was a polish of vegetable oil to prevent sunburn and an undercoat of pennyroyal oil to repel wood wicks and lice. It’s also possible to run chickens on the pig tractor principle, as a clever neighbor does. “It’s third world agriculture,â€Â he says, “perfect for undeveloped countries like this part of Orange County.â€Â His chickens excel at weeding garden edges and preying on insect pests.
Traditionally, farmers often turn a few hogs loose in the corn field after harvest to uproot stalks, enrich the soil, and fatten up. A pig tractor does the same job, without running loose. It’s also possible to grow fuel especially for the pig tractor, such as beets and turnips and mangels, and then drive him over the field to fill up.
Nothing about killing the tractor engine is easy, but the portable pen can help. We try to arrange plowing so the pig tractor winds up underneath the hanging tree, right beside the scalding tank, at butchering time. That way, after the bleed, he can be hoisted out of the pen. Otherwise, we knock off a few boards to open up.
But if the thought of slaughter turns you off, there’s always a call for pig tractors on the hoof.
Editor’s Note: This article first appeared in the book A Country Planet: Smart Ways to Rural Success and Survival by Tim Matson, and in Country Life on April 25, 2011. The book is now out of print. However, watch our blog for several more reprints of Tim’s great articles from this book!
Tim is also the author of three books offered at Lehmans.com: Earth Ponds A to Z, Earth Ponds Sourcebook and The Book of Non-Electric Lighting.
Wonderful article!
I grew up with a pig tractor each year – great memories.
Nothin’ like a pig’s snout to get the job done…and bring home the bacon!!
Not allowed to raise pigs here but got plenty of ferral hogs tearing up the place.
My husband sad all Mr. B’s pig needed was some milk to go with his quackers…