Wrestling a Gator Flap : Confiscation of 24-Year Mascot Stirs Up Carson Neighborhood

City leaders in Carson may have felt Thursday as if they were up to their you-know-whats in alligators.

Angry residents were snapping at them over the confiscation of a beloved neighborhood mascot: a 6-foot alligator that has lived on Ackmar Avenue for 24 years--longer than the city has been in existence.

Officials ordered the seizure of the gator, named Papa, last weekend after an anonymous caller tipped them off that it was dozing in Nelvolia Collins’ back yard. Alligators are not on the city’s list of approved pets.

Neighbors stood in the street and watched in shock as Papa’s jaws were tied shut and hewas carted off to an improvised pen at the Wildlife Waystation above the San Fernando Valley.

According to Collins, the 80-pound reptile is still in shock.

“He’s never been out of the back yard before,” said Collins, 56. “He’s not eating. He’s not moving. He’s scared to death--I’m afraid he’s going to die.”

Carson officials told Collins that she can apply for a special permit to get her pet back. But the process will take about three months--and after that she will need to obtain a wildlife permit from the state’s Department of Fish and Game.

“It will take a formal hearing before the Planning Commission,” said Pat Brown, Carson’s director of community development. “It’s not an overnight process. We have other caseloads. . . .”

Deputy City Administrator Scot Yotsuya said Papa may land in the lap of the Carson City Council.

“Whether an alligator can be classified in the same category as a traditional pet depends on whether it has an obnoxious nature and whether it poses a public threat,” Yotsuya said. “Obviously, that part could pose a real problem.”

But Papa is more pussycat than fierce swamp creature, said angry neighbors along Ackmar Avenue who have hastily started their own brand of gator aid.

A hand-painted “Bring Papa Home” sign was posted Thursday beneath a yellow ribbon tied to a tree in Collins’ front yard. Inside her house decorated with plastic alligator ashtrays and cups, alligator wood carvings and alligator statuettes of brass and ivory, friends Lily McCoy and Sandy Schicora were preparing “Free Papa” petitions on their own portable computer.

A steady stream of neighbors came for copies to circulate in town to prove to officials that Papa is a good citizen.

“My twins grew up with that alligator,” said Annie Johnson, who has lived on the block for 26 years. “Now my grand-babies come over to look at him. Papa never gets out of the back yard.”

Neighbor Ken Honda agreed. “Papa’s just like family. He’s never hurt anyone or anything. It’s ridiculous to take him from his home.”

Said Bobbie Householder, a neighbor since 1964: “Papa wouldn’t hurt a fly. Taking him was like taking a child from its mother.”

Two 6-year-olds stopped in to inquire about Papa. “He’s green. He has a tail. He’s neat,” said Jose Gomez. “He’s a nice alligator,” agreed Anthony Johnson.

Collins, who wears alligator sweat shirts and alligator hair pins, said she has loved gators since she was a girl growing up in New Orleans. Papa was a 1966 Christmas gift from her own father, who was a Louisiana alligator hunter, she said.

“I go out back and call him and he comes,” said Collins, who wrapped the alligator in a quilt and rubbed his leathery skin to keep him warm during December’s cold snap. “He likes me to feed him chicken legs, thighs and wings. He hisses and makes ‘hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm’ sounds, almost like a cow mooing. He’s like a child to me.”

Husband Sam Collins, 61, a chiropractor who is called “Dr. Gator” by his patients, wears a custom-made gold alligator necklace. He shoved a tape into a video recorder. It showed Papa lazing in his 15-foot fenced-in back yard compound, next to a shallow concrete pond filled with water lilies.

In one scene, his wife is seen lifting 1-year-old grandson Crispin Collins gingerly onto Papa’s back. The alligator didn’t flinch his tail or flash his teeth.

Others outside of Carson said they are rooting for Papa too.

“Personally, this is a tough one,” said Lt. Fred Randolph, the Gardena-based Los Angeles County Animal Control officer who supervised Papa’s confiscation.

Judy Williams, executive vice president of the Wildlife Waystation, went to a toy shop to buy a children’s wading pool for Papa. “I hope she gets him back,” she said of Nelvolia Collins. “He’s a healthy, well-cared-for, wonderful alligator.”