Gertie is my new creature of fascination at the family farm. I’ve never stood nose to snout with a 200-kilo pregnant pig before. Even her head is twice the size of mine. I couldn’t work out how her enormous girth didn’t topple those four spindly trotters.

I noticed how her giant belly jiggled and rippled as she scratched her bristly thigh against the metal grill of the trailer. I knew then we’d be friends because she made me feel petite. Really, the only attractive thing about her were the patterns in the veins of her ears, backlit in the afternoon sun. But I felt strangely maternal towards her  – she was huffing and snorting, much like I did when heavily pregnant. I couldn’t believe this gargantuan lump of pork was herself only nine months old.