Having spent many days on a farm as a youngling, I thought of animals as my best friends. They were drawn to the tiny five-year-old that I was, and we got along splendidly.

I spent most of my time going around and greeting different farm animals with a hug and a kiss. At the time, there were many sheep and goats on the farm and even horses.

They allowed me to wrap my little arms around them and kiss their cheeks without any fuss. I think they were putting up with me because I was so young. But for me, it was the best thing ever.

Usually, I would spend hours just petting them and talking to them. It was the best time of my life. I was happy and healthy, surrounded by my family and animal friends.

My fondest memory was when, one day, I was playing with the newest kid that my favorite goat had and decided to take it into the house. Things didn't go so well for either one of us.

The kid got terrified of being inside. Thus, it got out of my arms and ran around the room, causing an absolute mess. Then, it finally hid under the bed and refused to come out.

Being too small to grab it and too scared to crawl completely under the bed to get it, I tried to convince it to come out. I did that by promising all kinds of delicacies. It didn't work, which was quite a surprise for my young self.

Finally, my father had to reach for the kid, who was willing to be carried out of the odd place that the house was to it.