Pigs don’t have a braking mechanism. They can dispose of any amount of food without pausing for breath or burps. They never appear to suffer from indigestion. They never refuse seconds, thirds, or even tenths. At the end of a hard day at work, the site of pure unbridled greed can lift your heart. 
I have always founds pigs cute. Every year at the local agricultural show, I would drag my husband to look at the 3 month old piglets asleep in their pens.
“Aren’t they just soooo sweeeet?” I would drool.
“Yes, Margery” he would say, and then taking me to look at the 400kg porker in the next pen, “but they turn into THAT.”
Then I discovered kune kune pigs, and entered the bizarre world of rare breed enthusiasts. Kune kune pigs (pronounced Coony Coony) came originally from New Zealand and were domesticated by the Maoris. They are supremely friendly and are, by piggy standards, miniatures. That does not mean they are small – a good size pig can grow to 100 kg – that, incidentally is far too big to boss around. They are hairy and tubby. Some are spotted, others are a single colour. Importantly, for us at least, they look like pigs – unlike pot bellied pigs, which look like hippos.
One of the first things you learn as a pig owner is never to position yourself between a pig and a freshly filled swill bucket. The pig, all 100 kg of it, will go in a straight line to the food even if that route involves going between your legs.
BAFTA awards
The second thing you learn is that pigs are BAFTA standard actors. They are starving, neglected and on their last trotters. The first few days I fed them on demand. Then I phoned up the breeder.
“How much do you feed them?” I asked. “They’re always hungry. I can’t get it right.”
She asked me how much I had given them and burst out laughing. “They know a sucker when they see one.”
Pigs are highly intelligent animals. They learn very quickly, particularly if rewarded with food. Early on, we taught our pigs to “ask nicely”. I had, I admit, thought it was all too cutesy for words, when I saw other pig owners insisting that their pigs should sit and beg like a dog if they wanted tit bits. I soon discovered the practical reason for this – an undisciplined pig will behave just like an undisciplined dog: jump up and plant its front trotters in the middle of your chest. And that is no fun.
Kune kune pigs love human company. In fact, they think they are human and therefore see no reason why they shouldn’t come in the house. Some people do indeed have house pigs – pigs are scrupulously clean, so it’s not a problem in that respect – but even miniature pigs are large and clumsy and tend to walk through furniture rather than round it. Ours live in a small paddock at the bottom of the garden but every now and then they will work out an escape strategy. One of their favourite tricks is to lift the gate off its hinges.
If we are at work, they head straight for the veg plot and work their way methodically along the row of whatever is in season. Then they go to next door’s veg plot and repeat the exercise. If you want to keep pigs, therefore, it helps if your neighbours think they are cute as well.
Pig at the cat flap
If we are at home, it’s a different matter. Thrilled that their favourite humans are around, they head straight for the back door, stick their snouts through the cat flap and grunt and squeal to be let in. If the back door is open, the first you know of a Piggy Presence is snurfling and thudding as they scoff the cat food in ultra quick time.
After a few of years of keeping kune kune pigs, we fancied having a go at breeding our own. If you decide to become a breeder, there is a whole complicated round of paper work to ensure their pedigree is fully documented. Then starts the process of match-making. The Kune Kune Pig Society has its own Official Match-Maker who knows every blood line in the country. It’s her job to ensure that the breeding stock remains healthy. Once she chooses The Right Boar at Stud, the next task is to contact the owner.
“Toto (name changed to preserve anonymity) isn’t here at the moment,” we were told. “He’s away working.”
Nice work if you can get it.
So, we had to wait for Toto to return from working away. We then loaded Truffle into a pig trailer and drove up 3 hours up the M5 for her blind date. Toto was a spotty boar with tusks. I thought he was beautiful. 
Truffle was absolutely not impressed. Toto, however, seemed pleased enough with his new assignment, so we left them to it.
A few weeks later, we had a call from Toto’s owner. Truffle would have none of it. She was bullying Toto so much they had to be separated. Studs operate on a no-piglet-no-fee basis, so we had not lost much – except for fruitless drive up and down the M5.
We phoned the Match-maker. “There’s a nice boar in Penzance,” she said.
So ended our attempts at pig breeding
Keeping pigs is a serious undertaking. I’ve often been asked how long they live. I’m honestly not sure – the truth is that most farm pigs become sausages long before they get old. For pet pigs you should reckon on at least fifteen year commitment. You need plenty of land, with good fresh grass, shelter and a sty and really effective fencing. Some pig farmers use electric fencing but kune kune pigs are so hairy, they don’t really feel it. Stock fencing with a strip of barbed wire along the bottom (to stop them levering it up with their snouts) is the most effective. Pigs need companionship and you should never keep a lone animal. Make sure you buy from a reputable breeder – and don’t be offended if they ask you a lot about yourself and your facilities before selling to you. The brief fashion in pot bellied pigs a decade ago resulted in many animals going to unsuitable homes and the Kune Kune Pig Society is anxious that the same thing should not happen again.
You can see kune kune pigs at Choldereton Rare Breeds Farm,