In a field where the grasses dance in the breeze, Lived a Oxford

In a field where the grasses dance in the breeze, Lived a Oxford Sandy & Black sow, quite at ease. She met a boar, with a snort and a grin, That's where the story's set to begin. They nuzzled and grunted, a match well made In a shelter where the straw was snugly laid. This was the start, the breeding plan - The life of a piglet, just as it began. Soon in a pen, called a farrowing bay. The sow settled down on the straw most of the day With a snuffle, and a squeal, she gave a loud yawn - And POP! tiny piglets were suddenly born. Some days later the farmer came with a tag and a tool, To keep track of piglets - its a biosecurity rule! A clip on the ear, soft and quick Each, one got a tag and a number to pick! Then came the feeding, at three times a day With pellets and milk from mum they could eat where they lay! They munched and they crunched, and squealed with delight, Food again? That's alright! As the piglets grew, they moved to a new pen, A growing space fit for young pigs and then They gobbled up feed and packed on some weight Getting chunky and strong at a rapid rate! A vet came to visit, with tools and a case Checking each pig with a kind, gentle face She peeked in their ears and tapped on each knee "All happy and healthy, as far as I can see!" Now big and bold with coats of gold and black The OSBs roamed through fields out back They snuffled for roots and rolled in the mud, Living free range lives, like pigs should! But time ticks on and when they are grown They're loaded with care and not alone To the abattoir, they're calmly brought - A respectful journey, as the farmer taught A skilled butcher works with practised hands, Turning the pork with careful plans. Chops, joints, sausages and bacon too - Ready for packaging, clean and new And so from the field where the piglets played, To the plate where the supper is laid The story of pork is honest and true Respectful and caring, the whole way through!