On the outside, Colin Millang’s pig farm looks like any other farm dotting the Prairies.
In the foreground is a bungalow nestled in towering poplar and spruce trees. Across the yard sit the pig barn and grain bins.
But a spiritual quest that has sent Millang on a personal reflective journey has changed what goes on inside.
The Camrose-area pig farmer decided he could no longer eat meat.
The combination of his brother-in-law dying from a heart attack at 33, the same age as Millang, and returning to school to take theology, forced Millang to reassess his life, including his diet and the way he raises pigs.
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“Through my spiritual journey I came to a realization that I no longer believe animals should die so I could eat.”
For many that’s where the dichotomy exists: How can Millang be a vegetarian and still raise pigs?
Millang said the pigs keep him honest. Without the daily contact with pigs, he could become hyper critical like some reformed smokers or drinkers who love to preach about the evils of their former habits.
“As long as I have pigs in the barn I can’t do that,” he said. “It keeps me from pushing my values and beliefs onto others.”
Millang’s wife, Maureen, and their three children have their own thoughts on vegetarianism. They continue to enjoy meat with their meals.
“I love bacon,” piped in son, Joshua, 6.
While it’s been almost two years since Millang stopped eating meat, he remains almost a closet vegetarian. He doesn’t voluntarily tell other farmers of this dietary orientation.
“This isn’t something I want to advertise. It’s a deeply personal thing,” he said, adding he’s concerned that people will brand him as odd and eccentric if they knew.
“I haven’t forgotten how I was 15 years ago. People like me, I wanted shot.”
Fifteen years ago while farming with his father, Millang announced automation was the only way to survive on a small farm. He was embarrassed because they were still raising pigs in straw and feeding them by hand.
He brought in farrowing crates, automated the barn and declared himself a modern pig farmer.
“I wanted to be successful, I didn’t want to be a kook like my father was,” he said.
After that, his father could no longer stand to go into the barn.
Change of view
Years later, in the wake of his spiritual search, Millang collided head-on with the same inner turmoil.
“Boy, have I taken a flip.”
The personal transformation began about eight years ago while Millang was taking a sociology degree at Augustana University College in Camrose, Alta., and later courses through Newman Theological College in Edmonton, working toward his goal to become a Lutheran pastor.
He began to question his beliefs and realized the way he raised pigs was contrary to his awakening value system.
To adapt his work to his philosophy, Millang has again remodeled the barn and switched from a farrowing operation to a finishing barn. The changes have also allowed him more time to attend his theology classes one day a week and conduct inner city ministerial work in Edmonton once a week.
“I can’t be spending all day in the inner city if I have baby pigs in the barn.”
Millang buys 500 pigs over four weeks to finish. The 15-by-40 metre barn is divided into four gigantic pens to allow the pigs to roam free.
“Before, I said I was a businessman and I’m here to make money. Now I continue to make money, but living my sense of values is just as important.”
