Mini Piggy Palooza

I’ve lived 63 years on this good Earth without ever having been to or let alone knew about such a thing as a Mini Piggy Palooza. Lollapalooza, yes. Mini Piggy Palooza, no.

I’ve heard of Bacon Fest.  I’ve been to Bacon Fest and thoroughly enjoyed it.  Who knew how many ways you could eat bacon?  Bacon ice cream, anyone?

But this was decidedly not that.

Shudder the thought.

Turns out that there is a Potbellied Pig Rescue, Ross Mill Farm, located not far from us.

Once a month they hold their Mini Piggy Palooza.

They advertise the activities as follows:

Cuddle with over 160 mini pet pigs, enjoy live entertainment, vegan food, and piggy paintings.

What’s not to like about any of that?  Well, maybe the vegan food.  But that is understandable.  As understandable as when Ernie made the right decision to not wear his t-shirt from the Bridgeport Rib House that had dancing pigs on the front, a la the Grateful Dead dancing bears, and We Roast One Daily written on the back.

And so, we took Wren and her parents to go meet some pigs.

First, when you hear the words “mini pet pigs”, do you not imagine that they are little pigs? Does not the word, “mini” connote small to you?

I was therefore astonished to see pigs, that in my definition, would not be categorized as mini.  There was only one that I would classify as such, and he or she was a baby.

The rest were a rather large-ish, hefty size. 

Perhaps my pig scale is off (yes, it was). Perhaps I don’t really know just how large pigs can get (no, I did not know they could get to 800 lbs and stand over 36” at the shoulder”).  And that maybe if I knew that, I would then look at these pigs and say, sure, these are mini (they are, at 80 to 150 lbs and 16” to 20” at the shoulder).  But not knowing that, at best I would classify these pigs as medium.  But certainly not mini (and I would be wrong).

The first thing you noticed as you got close to the farm, was that it was tucked away in the woods at the end of a long, narrow, winding road with no outlet.  One way in, and one way out.

Next you notice the sign that says Slow Down Watch for Pigs.  These pigs are free ranging.

Upon entering the farm, you are given a telescoping pig scratcher.  It looks like a back scratcher.  Apparently, these pigs loved to be scratched.  I mean, come on, who doesn’t like that? We learned that if, while scratching your pig, the pig flopped over, you were a pig whisperer and destined to adopt a pig.

As we strolled about the grounds, scratching the various pigs with our telescoping pig scratchers, the music wafting through the air from the guy playing guitar and singing, we were impressed by how gentle the pigs were and how clean everything seemed to be.  I would have expected more than just music to be wafting through the air.  But nary a bad odor was sniffed.

The pigs were so cute, albeit some more so than others..  Some had tusks and teeth that were protruding in a way that made you want to steer clear of them.  Some had what looked like mohawks and looked like they could be an extra in a Mad Max movie.

I couldn’t wait to see the pigs paint.  They take an 8x10 or so canvas.  You pick out the colors you want and they squirt them onto the canvas.  Then they cover it with plastic and put some pig food on it.  As the pig eats the food his snout ends up mixing up the paint colors, and voilá you have your very own Pigcasso.

We soon came to learn that these pigs are quite intelligent.  They are much smarter than a dog or a cat and are considered 4th in intelligence after humans, primates, and dolphins. 

They have a natural gentle disposition. 

And they make great pets we are told.  Winston Churchill is quoted as saying, “Dogs look up to you, cats look down on you and pigs are willing to treat you as an equal.” 

Ross Mill Farm’s website says this about them: “Imagine that you go out for the evening. Your dog is happy to see you when you get home, your cat may not even know you were gone. Your pet pig looks at you and asks, “So where have you been?”

All in all, we had a fun time.  Turns out that we had a pig whisperer or two amongst us (not me, germaphobe that I am, y’all didn’t think I’d get that close to one, did you?).

That said, we did not come home with a pig, but we got a cute handknit pig ornament for the Christmas tree.  And our very own Pigcasso, of course.  And the memory of the wide-eyed joy of Wren meeting the little piggies for the first time.  Priceless.