Many of you know that my husband is a Show Pig Breeder. He's also an attorney but that's irrelevant because for purposes of this post, he's a pig farmer. Which makes me a pig farmer's wife. I always love saying that. It makes me feel all country and stuff.
|My guy and his namesake|
Speaking of country and stuff, I thought I'd mention that I'm a walking, talking Texas sacrilege. How so? I am one of the six (give or take a hundred) people in this wonderful state that does not own a pair of cowboy boots. (My husband would be the only other bootless person I know.) I do have my eye on a pair, however, they're extremely out of my price range and would not justify the roughly 7.25 wears per year they would get. Anyhoo, being at a county stock show, we just don't really fit the bill appearance-wise.
|My older two girls|
|My third daughter sporting the family logo|
|Intently watch the pig show|
So I know you're dying to know how this whole thing works, so here it is:
The kid brings their pig into the show pen and the judge (left) takes a few moments to look at solely that pig before the next one comes in. This continues until the whole class (12 pigs on average for a county show) is in the pen.
Well, to my husband at least.