Just like all piglets who arrive on Maria Mulvihill’s 192-acre animal rescue in Hinckley, Minn., Wayne and his brother, Garth, spent their first months living in the Mulvihill’s home. 

They arrived in late January, after a dog rescue found the brothers—a pair of 2-week-old kunekune pigs. Kunekune are domestic pigs that originated from New Zealand and are known for the two wattles that hang from their chins. 

“They should have been with their parents so they still needed a heat lamp and to be taught how to feed,” says Mulvihill, director of Bruno’s Barn pig rescue, which is named after her first pig, Bruno, who she and her husband rescued when they were still living in St. Paul. 

On a morning in mid-April, Mulvihill let Wayne and Garth out with the family’s dogs. As Wayne did his morning business, Mulvihill saw that he was straining. When he finally was able to relieve himself, his urine was dotted with clotted blood. 

Over the years, she’d become accustomed to seeking care for an array of pig ailments. Mulvihil always took them to the University of Minnesota Veterinary Medical Center (VMC).

“We kind of specialize here in the medical trainwrecks,” she says. 

That includes Peach, a three-week-old Yorkshire pig who broke her leg when she fell off a truck that was transporting her and about 1,000 other piglets on a local highway. Peach was able to undergo multiple surgeries at the VMC only because of the hospital’s diverse specialty teams. The VMC is home to more than 16 specialty medical services across a small animal, a large animal hospital, an equine hospital, and an equine ambulatory service. 

“The small and large animal teams had to be melded together to make that surgery work,” Mulvihill says. 

More recently, there was Honey, who arrived at Bruno’s Barn paralyzed in her back legs. 

“We again had all the teams working together to determine how to treat her,” Mulvihill says. “Now she runs around like any other pig, you would never be able to tell.”

When she called the VMC to tell them about Wayne, the veterinarians agreed she should make the hour drive to St. Paul so they could run some tests. His size and species—which is known for having a lot of muscle and fat that can obscure veins—presented a few challenges, but nothing that made care impossible. 

“Pigs are so hard to diagnose with blood work, you have to go through their ear or a more invasive route, and he was so little,” Mulvihill says. 

In the examining room, Wayne was lethargic but alert and responsive. The scar left by his neutering procedure had healed nicely, and the doctors ruled this out as the cause of his symptoms. He didn’t have any lameness, and an ultrasound of his kidneys showed those were healthy, too. 

What he did have was a continuous drip of brown-tinged urine, which his care team collected and tested. The results—a bit of protein and blood in the urine—indicated that Wayne had one of two things: inflammation in his urinary tract or a urinary tract infection (UTI). 

Within a few hours, the work-up was done, and Mulvihill and Wayne were heading north, equipped with the least invasive option for treatment. 

“We weren’t certain what it was, but we figured before we jump to a surgery, we would try some antibiotics for a day or two, and it would be clear if he was improving or not,” Mulvihill says.

He did improve, within about a day, but the care team followed up over the next month, monitoring his progress. Now 40 pounds and a long way from full-grown, he and Garth have graduated to living in the barn with their swine comrades, many of whom are surrendered by families who buy them as pets, not realizing they will grow to be 600 pounds. 

“Pigs can make great pets, but they require lots of space and attention, and aren’t for everyone,” Mulvihill says, encouraging people to do their research when considering adding a pig to their family so they don’t end up looking to rehome them.

Bruno’s Barn will continue rescuing pigs in emergency medical situations and taking them to the VMC for their care, she adds.