I Kissed a Pig. And I Liked It.

Okay, technically it was nose-to-snout but I’m calling it.

I can’t say it for certain, but I have to imagine this is exactly what I looked the first time I came face-to-face with a farm animal some three plus decades ago.

If you’d met me five years ago, you’d know me as a pig-lover of another kind. Suffice to say the existence of dark-chocolate-covered-bacon more than excited me. But after learning pigs have the intelligence of a three year old (human), I had to stop eating them.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying three year olds are particularly smart or anything, just that I wouldn’t eat one.

So when I had a chance to eat meet piggies recently during my visit to Purina Farms with a few other lucky bloggers, I couldn’t resist.

And the cow? The pre-teens visiting with grandparents didn’t stand a chance. That nanosecond of hesitation – when a volunteer was called for – was I needed to seal my fate as guest milker. I’ve never been accused of being shy.

Lucky for me, grandpa had some sage advice I approached the massive mammary glands. “Be sure to warm up those hands!” 

Yup, that’s what he said alright.  #youcantmakethisshitup.

Special thanks to fellow cat bloggers Dorian (Your Daily Cute) and Stephanie (Catsparella) who I think took these pics. And no, I had not been drinking.