Wildlife and agricultural agencies in North Texas report a rising number of complaints about feral hogs, and officials say the situation is likely to worsen before improving. Residents in Montgomery County describe thousands of dollars in property damage, with some saying they have stopped repairing their yards because the hogs return each night.
In Blanco County, Texas, routine camera footage captured behavior that wildlife officials initially declined to release. The footage showed feral hogs moving through brush in the early morning hours in a manner that researchers found significant. The behavior involved coordination among predators targeting young hogs, a pattern that contradicted long-held assumptions among wildlife professionals.

The roots of the problem date back roughly 500 years. Spanish ships traveling along the Gulf Coast intentionally left hogs behind as a food source for future voyages. The animals spread inland and reproduced in an environment with no natural predators and no diseases capable of controlling their numbers.
In the early twentieth century, European hunters imported Eurasian wild boars for sport. When those animals escaped captivity, they bred with free-ranging domestic hogs. The resulting hybrid was stronger than farm pigs and more resilient than wild boars, and it spread without natural opposition.
The reproductive capacity of feral hogs is substantial. A single female can produce two litters per year, with up to twelve piglets per litter. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the national population stands at nearly seven million. Texas alone has roughly 2.6 million feral hogs across 253 of its 254 counties.
The animals cause extensive damage. The University of Texas A&M estimates annual losses of more than $500 million in Texas and nearly $3 billion nationwide. Crops are destroyed overnight. Wetlands are damaged faster than they can recover. There have also been documented incidents involving infrastructure and public safety.
For decades, official response focused on trapping, shooting, and aerial hunting. These efforts produced limited results. Some farmers noted that hogs learned to avoid traps after seeing other members of their group captured. Aerial operations could cover large areas, but cleared land was often repopulated within a season by animals moving in from surrounding brush.
By 2014, researchers in the Texas Hill Country began noticing something unusual. Hog nests containing newborn piglets were being found empty and dug up, with no signs of traps or human activity. Biologist Dr. Michael Boden began investigating which predators might be responsible. The evidence pointed to coyotes, despite the conventional view that a thirty-pound coyote would not attack a two-hundred-pound sow protecting her young.
Camera footage showed coyotes approaching hog nests in coordinated patterns. One animal moved against the wind while others waited at the sides. The coyotes targeted piglets, killing them quickly and retreating before the mother returned. The sequence took about five seconds.
Laboratory results supported the findings. In Fort Hood, researchers examined eighteen coyotes from hog-heavy areas and found undigested hog tissue in about a third of them, with the animals killed within the previous twelve hours. In Georgia, DNA from young hogs appeared in more than thirty percent of coyote scat samples collected statewide.
Researchers began describing this behavior as precise, high-risk predation. The coyotes avoided adult hogs entirely and focused on piglets, which weigh considerably less than full-grown animals. The techniques observed included one coyote creating a distraction while others attacked from the sides. Some coyotes shifted their hunting to early dawn, when hogs were exhausted from foraging at night.
The pattern indicated learned behavior rather than instinct, transmitted through coyote family groups over successive generations. As traditional prey such as rabbits and rodents declined, coyotes turned to a new food source: unprotected piglets produced in large numbers.
Data showed measurable effects. In parts of Oklahoma and Georgia, feral hog numbers fell by twenty percent in areas with consistent coyote activity, without any government intervention. In East Texas, more than thirty percent of piglets disappeared each breeding season, with the losses concentrated in high-coyote areas.
Between 2017 and 2020, several states paid bounties of up to seventy-five dollars per coyote. Hunters collected thousands. In Kerr County, Texas, a state-funded removal program reduced coyote numbers by more than sixty percent. Within three years, the local hog population tripled. Wildlife officials reviewing the data concluded that the bounty programs had removed the most effective control mechanism available.
Recent years have seen a shift. Texas has moved toward a coordinated approach that formally protects coyote populations in areas with high hog density. For the first time in the state’s management history, rebuilding predator populations has become part of the official response.
Trap technology has also advanced. Modern traps use infrared cameras, solar power, and wireless connections to smartphone applications. Farmers can wait until an entire group is inside before dropping the gate remotely. Some farmers leave traps open and unset for two weeks to allow hogs to become familiar with the structure. On a single night, when the camera shows thirty or forty animals inside, the gate drops with no survivors to warn others.
Communities in rural Texas have pooled resources for coordinated trap networks and aerial surveys. Some are testing toxic bait feeders designed to open only under the weight of hogs, leaving other wildlife unharmed.
In Atascosa County, a coalition combining smart traps and coyote habitat protection reduced annual crop losses from six hundred acres of damaged corn to nearly zero within two growing seasons. Wildlife agencies in Australia and New Zealand, where hog populations are rising similarly, are studying these results.
Researchers who have studied the issue closely have reached a common conclusion. No budget item can replicate what coyotes do naturally. No trap can match their efficiency. No helicopter operates seven nights a week in all weather conditions at no cost. Traps catch adults. Helicopters push groups away. Poisons remove individuals. Coyotes disrupt the reproductive cycle, eliminating the next generation before it exists.
As one field researcher summarized, coyotes are not a supplement to the strategy. They are the strategy itself, with all other measures serving as support. The footage from Blanco County mattered not because it was startling, but because it documented behavior that existing management programs had overlooked for years. Wildlife officials who reviewed the footage recognized that a natural predator had been addressing the hog problem in ways that funded programs had not. The shift in approach reflects a growing acknowledgment that the most effective solution may have been present in the ecosystem all along.