
During feeding times, Janice Skura strolls through the pig enclosures in her Long Island backyard, calling each rescued pig by name as she portions out moist food from a pail into their feeding dishes. She politely requests them to shift and expresses gratitude when they comply.
“I treat them with respect,” she remarks. “I believe it’s important to show appreciation.”
Skura, aged 57, resides on a one-acre plot in a suburban area of Long Island, just an hour from New York City. Her property, now a sanctuary, houses 32 potbellied pigs, all relinquished by previous owners unable or unwilling to provide proper care.
Potbellied pigs, originally from Vietnam and smaller than farm-raised pigs, became trendy pets in the 1980s; at their peak, they were sold for tens of thousands of dollars. Today, breeders still market them online, with some dishonest sellers promoting them as “teacup” pigs that remain tiny. However, when these pigs grow to 70–100 pounds or more, as most do, owners often find themselves overwhelmed and seek Janice’s help. Over 17 years, Skura has rescued an estimated 500 to 600 pigs through her sanctuary.
“Pigs aren’t like dogs or cats. They have unique behavioral challenges,” Skura explains. “Pigs strive to dominate and thrive in groups. In a herd, they learn proper behavior, but as solo pets, they can become unruly.”
I WANT TO LOVE ON ALL OF THEM EVERY DAY
Daily chores for Skura include feeding and cleaning up after the pigs. The pigs remain calm until her midday feeding routine. After lunch, Skura cleans their enclosures using a rake and scooper, disposing of waste through a backyard pipe she calls the poop chute, which leads to an old cesspool. She replenishes hay, trims hooves, and files tusks as needed, all while showering each pig with affection and saying, “I love you.”
“I have more pigs than I can handle,” Skura admits. “It’s incredibly challenging. I wish I could give each one daily attention, but it’s just not physically possible.”
Most pigs under Skura’s care spend their lives with her, though she occasionally rehomes them if she finds a suitable family. Finding the right home is challenging, as Skura views her pigs as cherished members of her family.
“You need to ensure the pig will have a better life than I can provide,” Skura explains. She personally visits potential adopters’ homes before finalizing any adoption and follows up afterward to ensure the pig is thriving and to offer support to the new owners.
“It’s heartbreaking,” she says about rehoming her pigs. “It feels like losing a part of myself. Even now, I get emotional thinking about the ones I let go, especially those I shouldn’t have. While caring for them has enriched my life, it’s also a source of pain when I remember the ones I’ll never see again—the ones who loved and trusted me. We shared such a strong bond, and I just handed them over to someone else.”
THE MINUTE I SAW IT, I WANTED IT
Skura has always adored animals, though her mother only allowed her to have a pet rabbit as a child. As an adult, she worked for years as a caregiver for infants and the elderly. She once considered fostering children but ended up marrying and having two sons before she could pursue it.
“Falling in love with pigs filled that nurturing void for me,” she shares. It has since become her life’s work.
Skura rescued her first pig in 2000 while she was also saving pet rabbits. Feeling overwhelmed by her responsibilities, she visited a nearby farm for assistance. During the visit, the farm owner unexpectedly pulled out what appeared to be a fetus, still attached to an umbilical cord, and asked Skura if she wanted it. It turned out to be a three-day-old piglet.
“The moment I saw it, even without knowing what it was, I knew I wanted it,” Skura recalls. “And I loved it instantly.”
Initially, Skura’s husband, Peter, a union electrician, was on board. “I thought the little pigs were cute,” he admits. “I wanted the first one just as much as Janice did. I imagined it would be a unique and fun pet. I never expected it would grow into this.”
Peter’s dreams of a well-manicured lawn and a tidy patio are long gone. After a few successful adoptions early on, he hoped the sanctuary might downsize. Instead, those adoptions only opened the door for more rescues.
“I don’t think this will ever stop,” Peter remarks. “I’ve stopped trying to reduce the number of pigs. It is what it is.”
While he doesn’t share his wife’s enthusiasm, Peter has constructed fences and helped with physically demanding tasks, such as burying deceased pigs. (Their resting places are 6-foot-deep graves atop a wooded hill behind their home.) Ultimately, Peter understands that the pigs bring his wife immense joy.
“I’ve seen her drive through the night to get a sick pig to safety or head out at 1 or 2 a.m. with our son to catch a pig roaming the streets,” he says.
Their 25-year-old son, Stephen, has spent nearly his entire life assisting with the pigs. “It really teaches you a lot about responsibility and caring for others,” he explains. “While most kids get a dog and are told to clean up after it, I grew up feeding and cleaning up after 40 pigs every day.”
THE POLICE WERE STANDING WITH THEIR JAWS OPEN
Skura’s sanctuary operates outside the law. Town authorities are aware of it, Skura notes, but they turn a blind eye as no complaints have been filed. “I’m thankful they’ve chosen to work with me,” Skura says.
In nearly 20 years, officials have stepped in just once. They received a report about Babe, a 600-pound pig Skura rescued from a local shelter when he was a piglet. Unaware of the distinction between farm hogs and potbellied pigs, Skura was surprised when Babe grew far beyond 100 or 200 pounds. She received a town notice about keeping an agricultural animal on her property. Skura rehomed Babe, and there have been no issues since.
In fact, Skura’s expertise has been invaluable to authorities in the past. Police once contacted her after raiding a property on Long Island’s East End, where animals were being bred and neglected. Dozens of dead animals were found, and a surviving pig had eluded both officers and ASPCA workers. They sought her assistance.
Upon arriving, Skura took charge. “I knelt down and started making a hawhawhawhawhaw sound,” Skura recalls, mimicking the friendly noise pigs make. The pig stopped fleeing, and she slowly approached, continuing the sound while scratching its chin and belly.
“The officers were stunned,” she says. “They stood there with their jaws dropped, wondering, ‘What just happened?’”
Unique animals draw unique individuals, and a home that also serves as a pig sanctuary often leads to peculiar situations. Once, a bagpipe player and his harpist wife came to adopt a pig, bringing their instruments to ensure the chosen pig wouldn’t be startled by the noise. The sound of bagpipes in the driveway woke Stephen, who discovered the woman strumming her harp on the kitchen floor. He retreated upstairs, and the couple left with two pigs.
THERE HE WAS IN MARTHA STEWART'S DRESSING ROOM
Some of Skura’s pigs have ventured into the entertainment industry. Two Manhattan-based animal talent agencies contact her when they need a pig for photo shoots or TV appearances. Skura offers a variety of sizes and colors for casting agents to choose from, and her pigs have graced magazines like Cosmopolitan and Men’s Health. They’ve also appeared on shows such as Live! With Kelly and Michael, Inside Amy Schumer, and The Martha Stewart Show.
During a visit to Stewart’s studio, a piglet escaped from the greenroom while Skura was distracted.
“I asked, ‘Where’s that little pig?’” Skura recalls. “When I didn’t see it in the hallway, I panicked. I tiptoed down the hall and found him in Martha Stewart’s dressing room, rummaging through her shoes. I quickly tidied up the shoes, grabbed the piglet, and left.”
Though infrequent, the photo shoots provide essential funds for supplies. Daily feed costs around $10, and annual medical expenses can reach thousands of dollars (Skura’s vet, coincidentally, is named Dr. Wilburs). Additional expenses include hay, wood for fence repairs, and transportation—all covered out of Skura’s own pocket. She never solicits donations.
Skura’s friend Kathy Montreuil describes her giving nature as her most defining trait. “She’s an incredible person. She gives without hesitation and from the heart, expecting nothing in return—not even from the pigs. Their happiness is her happiness,” Montreuil explains.
I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY LIVING THING SUFFER
Skura often surprises those around her with thoughtful gestures. Each morning, she sets out a variety of snacks on the kitchen counter for Stephen to grab on his way to work. She also patiently works with overwhelmed pig owners who want to surrender their pets, though she struggles to turn them away.
“I can’t bear to see any living creature suffer,” Skura says. “Even if an animal has been hit on the road, I’ll stop to move it so it doesn’t get run over again. How would you feel if you were struck repeatedly?”
Skura believes the pigs reciprocate her care in their own way. “They’re my steady companions,” she says. Over time, she’s learned to understand their behaviors and personalities, and they’ve taught her the value of patience.
“I’ve spoken to them, and they’ve responded,” Skura explains. “It might sound strange, but I’ve explained things to them, and they’ve started cooperating with me. It’s unbelievable but true. They’re incredibly smart.”
Skura wishes more people could see pigs for who they truly are. “They’re the most misunderstood animals on the planet,” she says. “If I could change just one person’s perspective each day, I’d feel accomplished. People think pigs are dirty, smelly, and even disgusting—some say they eat their own waste. It’s all so unfair.”
Skura lists the negative stereotypes associated with pigs: being called stupid or disgusting. “People don’t recognize their intelligence,” she says. “There’s a complete lack of respect for the entire swine family, and it’s so misguided. They’re amazing little beings.”
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If you’re considering adopting a pig or require Janice’s assistance with one you already have, you can reach her at [email protected].
All photos provided by Micah Danney
