In the playful name of “seeing things differently,” here’s a story.  A couple of years ago I went to a wedding in Indianapolis and got seated next to a local guy.  His name escapes me now.  During the dinner, we started talking about things to do in Indy.  He was trying to persuade me that it’s really a much crazier town that most people realize.

“I know some people who live with a wild pig in their house,” he said.  I didn’t buy it.

So he upped the ante. “Let’s drive out there right now.”

We got in my rental Chrysler 300 and drove to the suburbs of the suburbs of Indy.  It was the last house on the cul-de-sac.  We walked in, shook hands with his very sweet friends, and started chatting.

In that living room, I learned that a pig coming down the hallway sounds different than a dog.  His name was Bacon.

Due to an earlier conversation with this guy, I knew our time together would end at the pig adventure.  As we got back to the wedding, we resumed the night among our separate groups of friends.  “Where have you been?”, Colleen asked me.  I showed her these photos…



Awwww, Sweet Bacon!

Awwww, Sweet Bacon