November has a certain reputation. Falling leaves, chilly mornings, the last stubborn pumpkins hanging on for dear life, and everybody acting like Christmas is tomorrow.

And apparently, pigs.

Yep. Pigs.

While the rest of us are busy thinking about mysterious ravens, majestic wolves, and all those other creatures that look good on a mystical calendar, medieval Europeans were putting hogs on theirs.

Now, I don’t know about you, but when I think of ancient folklore, a bunch of pigs stuffing their faces isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind. Turns out, though, those hogs had a perfectly good reason for being there.

And no, it wasn’t because somebody decided November needed a spirit animal.

November’s Four-Legged Calendar Girls

Back before we had phones telling us the date, the weather, and how many steps we haven’t walked today, people sometimes used beautifully illustrated calendars that showed the work associated with each month.

These illustrations were called the Labors of the Months. Depending on where you lived, you might see somebody planting crops, harvesting grain, pruning vines, or tending livestock.

Come November, though, some of those calendars featured pigs.

Take the Belles Heures, an illuminated manuscript created in the early 1400s. Its November illustration shows a swineherd knocking acorns from trees so the pigs could eat them.

Then there’s the Hours of Henry VIII, made around 1500, which also shows pigs being fed acorns as part of November’s seasonal work.

Now, picture this. You’ve hired talented artists to create a gorgeous manuscript, complete with elaborate decorations and beautiful illustrations. They spend months working on this fancy thing, and when they get to November?

Hogs eating lunch.

I don’t know why that tickles me so much, but it does.

The Original All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

There’s actually a name for what those pigs were doing: pannage.

Every autumn, pigs could be turned loose in certain woodlands to eat fallen acorns, beechnuts, and whatever else they could root up. All that free food helped fatten them before winter, when families needed to have their food stores in order.

It wasn’t some secret ceremony performed beneath the sacred oak while everybody chanted to the Great Pig in the Sky.

It was farming.

And here’s something I didn’t expect when I started looking into this: pannage still happens.

Over in England’s New Forest, pigs are still released during autumn to forage. They even serve a useful purpose by clearing fallen acorns, which can be harmful to the ponies and cattle that graze there.

So the pigs get fed, the other animals benefit, and somebody gets to call letting hogs loose in the woods a legitimate job.

Not a bad arrangement, if you ask me.

The point is, those medieval calendar illustrations weren’t necessarily hiding some grand spiritual secret. They were showing a perfectly ordinary part of life that mattered a whole lot when winter was coming and the grocery store wasn’t an option.

So What Did the Pig Symbolize?

Well, honey, this is where things start getting interesting.

Go looking for pig symbolism online and you’ll find just about anything you want. Prosperity, abundance, fertility, greed, good luck, bad luck, and probably somebody claiming a pig appeared in their dream to announce a financial breakthrough.

Now, some of those meanings do have roots in particular cultures and traditions. Pigs have been part of human life for a mighty long time, so it makes sense that people have attached different beliefs to them.

But here’s where I start raising an eyebrow.

Just because a medieval artist painted a pig in November doesn’t mean everybody back then believed the pig was November’s sacred spiritual animal.

That’s a mighty big leap from “we need to fatten the hogs before winter” to “the universe is sending you a message through a pig.”

Could somebody today look at those old images and find personal meaning in abundance, preparation, or living with the seasons? Of course. People find meaning in all sorts of things, and I’m not here to tell anybody what they can or can’t believe.

But if somebody claims that meaning is an ancient tradition, I want to know where it came from.

Show me the story. Show me the manuscript. Show me something besides a pretty graphic somebody slapped together on Pinterest.

Because there’s a difference between exploring folklore and making shit up.

Taking the Foo Out of the Woo

All right, let’s separate what we actually know from what somebody might’ve pulled out of thin air.

Here’s what the historical evidence supports:

• Pigs appear in November scenes in medieval European calendar art.

• Letting pigs forage for acorns and other woodland food helped fatten them for winter.

• That practice was called pannage, and it still survives in England’s New Forest.

Here’s what those facts don’t prove:

• That the pig was universally considered November’s spiritual animal.

• That seeing a pig in November was supposed to predict wealth or good fortune.

• That every modern interpretation of pig symbolism is an ancient belief.

And before anybody gets their feathers—or bristles—ruffled, I’m not saying pigs never had spiritual or symbolic meanings. Different cultures have their own stories, and those are worth exploring.

I’m saying we ought to know which story we’re telling.

A medieval farming illustration and a spiritual tradition aren’t automatically the same damn thing.

The Barbed Belle Take

I have to tell you, I’m rather fond of November’s pigs.

There’s something downright funny about all these beautiful medieval manuscripts, full of fancy artwork and religious imagery, and then somebody gets to November and says, “Well, better put the hogs in there.”

And honestly? They weren’t wrong.

Those pigs represented something people dealt with every year. The seasons were changing, winter was on its way, and there was work to be done. Nobody could just run down to Walmart because they forgot to stock the pantry.

People paid attention to nature because they had to. They knew when the acorns fell, when the animals needed feeding, and when it was time to prepare for colder weather.

I think that’s interesting enough without dressing it up in some mystical nonsense.

Now, if you want to look at those November pigs and think about preparing for winter, appreciating what you’ve got, or making the most of what’s available, have at it. There’s nothing wrong with finding your own meaning in an old tradition.

Just don’t come telling me that an ancient pig goddess has personally appointed you the High Priestess of Acorns unless you’ve got some damn good documentation.

Because I will ask.

And I might laugh.

Probably both.

Sources & Further Reading

• Metropolitan Museum of Art — Belles Heures, November: Feeding Pigs

• Morgan Library & Museum — Hours of Henry VIII, November

• Forestry England — Pannage, Pigs and Acorns

Taking the Foo Out of the Woo is a Barbed Belle series exploring animal folklore, old traditions, and the stories behind familiar symbols—with curiosity, humor, and a healthy suspicion of internet bullshit.