HOGS!!
[If you're on a time crunch, skip over the section between the *'s. It's a story.
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It's been many years (in the last century!) since I've been where hogs are. Frankly, I'd be 10 times more concerned about them than all of your other predators put together. They're big, strong, super intelligent and completely disrespectful of anything to do with humans. Between their similar sizes, her dominance and their disrespect, I'd get her moved sooner rather than later. That will give her time to adjust to her new paddock closer to the manager before she foals.
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My own direct encounter wasn't with ferals it was with pet pigs. A place where I boarded had a trio of crossbred pigs they'd taught tricks to. Things like fetch, gee (right) and haw (left), shake, sit, speak and I don't remember how many others. They had to WORK for their dinners!!
Anyway, one day when I was helping the owner do evening chores, she told me to be a bit more vigilant than usual. The pigs were breeding and that made them more unpredictable. "Treat the boar like a breeding stallion," she advised as he crossed in front of me shaking his head up, down and around and grunting in anticipation as he normally did. I stepped back to give him a bit more space and continued on to the second trough to drop feed.
We were done in about 10 minutes. As we latched the gate after stepping out, she asked me to wait so she could show me the boar's new trick. "He'll sit up and beg!" She called him over using his training snack--day old bread--and he ran right over. "Beg!" she commanded. His behind plopped right down and he lifted his head and one front leg. As she reached over to hold the treat above his head to encourage him to lift the other leg, she exclaimed "Julie, your thigh!!" I glanced down to see a bloody tear as long as my hand on the inside of my inner thigh. It was stinging, not really enough to hurt much, but similar to a paper cut. My pant leg was drenched in blood down to my knee.
We went to the bathroom and when I took off my jeans to inspect the damage, we were shocked. It was twice as long as the rip....almost 11 inches and an inch deep. Had it been a couple of inches closer to the inner thigh, I might have been FORCED to go to the ER. (I didn't want to go because I knew what paperwork etc. they'd be required to fill out and the agencies they'd probably have to report to because it was caused by an animal.
Who vaccinates a pet pig against rabies?) As it was, since her husband was a field medic in the military, we draped a sheet over my lap to protect my modesty and he put in a couple of stitches and a WHOLE LOT of butterfly bandages. We were all surprised at the lack of pain and the cleanliness of the cut. The edges were so neat that it was like an incision. I still carry a 4" scar 12 years later, and we never did know if he pegged me whilst I was in the pen or when he came to do the trick.
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My point to that rambling story is this: feral hogs are easily the size of a 32 inch mini. They have no qualms about making their way under and through fences to get to feed. Be proactive and try to put our little Belle far far away. In the meantime, we'll all be watching with bated breath for updates as the blessed event nears.
P.S....make sure you have your secondary foaling kit available. You know, the one with a coffee/hot chocolate thermos, snacks, toilet paper, handiwipes, a book, etc. Even though the vet is to foal her out you'll still need them.
