Weird things, volume 2: The one with the pig

(So, it seems that my last post freaked some folks out. Sorry! I have a strong stomach and a high tolerance for yucky stuff, so I forget sometimes that other people might not enjoy reading about things like my gross ear. I promise, there will be nothing icky in this post.)

As far back as I can remember, I have loved pigs. I'm not really sure why I love them; I've seen several porcine-related episodes of Dirty Jobs, and they're certainly not the tidiest or most charming critters. Still, I think they're adorable. When it became trendy to keep pot-bellied pigs as pets a few years ago, I wanted one desperately...that is, until I actually met one.

I had been out to a bar with a couple of co-workers one January Saturday night. We ran into some friends-of-friends, a group of college guys, and ended the evening hanging out at their place. I can't really remember what brought the conversation around to their pet, but one of the guys said, "We have a pot-bellied pig." You do? Squee!! Where? No sooner had the words "in the back yard" come out of his mouth than I  was out the door, looking for some sign of a pet pig. Mind you, I completely disregarded the fact that it was after midnight, the guys' house was in a suburb (and therefore surrounded by close neighbors) and it was about ten degrees. Nothing was going to stop me from petting a pig.

I somehow found the pen in the dark, squee-ing all the way (did I mention that I may not have been entirely sober?). The pig had come to the gate, probably to see who was making such a ruckus at that time of night. I was just sticking my hand through the gate to pet him when, simultaneously, I heard, "DON'T!" and felt a CHOMP. The pig, the one that I was so excited to meet, had bitten me! The guy explained that the pig lived outside because he wasn't very friendly, and I wasn't the only person he had chomped. I was crushed. I had no idea pigs could be ill-tempered. The bite didn't hurt much at the time (tipsy, you know) but my fingers were really sore the next morning. That day, I gave up my hopes of having a pet pig. Since then, I don't really trust them, so I just squee over them from afar.

So, there you go. Yet another weird thing that has happened to me. I don't know anyone else who has been bitten by a pig. Have you ever had a close encounter with a barnyard animal?