The Pig That Ate La Puente

This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, and this little piggy is going to a hearing later this month in Department 37 of the Los Angeles County Superior Court for almost single-handedly destroying the image of La Puente.

Whaaaaat?

Well, no, I didn’t know that La Puente even had an image until now, and, between the two of us, I didn’t know where La Puente was until I went there.

For your information, it is 18 miles east of downtown L.A., 3.5 square miles in size, has a population of 38,055 and a median household income of $33,273. Not exactly Beverly Hills, but not slum city either.

The reason I know all of this is because I have become concerned with the fate of the La Puente Pig, a pedigreed Vietnamese animal named Montana that is occupying the energy of those who want to see it run out of town.

Even in the age of “Babe,” the cutest piggy since your baby’s little toe, there are people unimpressed with the idea of keeping pigs for pets, despite their gentle nature and an IQ higher than that of most city council members.

True, a Vietnamese potbellied pig is not nature’s most beautiful creation, but one must understand the need to love something even when it’s ugly. Beauty, after all, is only, well, snout-deep.

We had a goat once named Lucy who, due to an attack by a dog, was partially deformed and walked around with its tongue hanging from the side of its mouth. My wife adored that animal and, God knows, I tried, but it’s tough loving something with its tongue hanging out.

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The La Puente Pig is owned by Michele Walker and is actually only one of many potbellied pigs having problems with municipal officialdom.

In Pasadena, a woman will go on trial in June for walking her pig without a leash, and in L.A. a new ordinance licensing pigs is in limbo due to a bureaucratic inability to figure out who will process the paperwork.

But I can only handle one pig at a time, so let’s concentrate on the dreaded La Puente Pig, whose fate is in the hands of the court. Later this month a judge will decide whether or not Walker, 35, can keep the pig at least until a trial that will determine whether she can keep the pig at all.

This all began many years ago. For reasons she cannot recall, Walker began collecting pig replicas, everything from pottery pigs to pig earrings, the way certain aficionados collect anything having to do with cows.

Unlike cow-people, however, who generally do not go out and buy a steer, Walker plunked down $1,000 for a Vietnamese potbellied pig. Her family, a husband and three daughters, loved the pig, and so did the neighbors.

Montana, Walker told me the other day, was only 6 months old at the time and about the size of a pork roast, which, trust me, is my comparison and not hers. I think of pigs in different terms.

Now 5 years old and weighing in at 80 pounds, Montana, I am assured, is smart, loving, housebroken, odorless, flealess, nonviolent and hypoallergenic. It even watches television with the family, preferring “The Simpsons” to, say, “Jeopardy” or “Seinfeld.”

That isn’t my choice, but I’m not about to debate entertainment with a pork chop.

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Well, to make a long pig story short, the city found out about Montana and wants her (Montana’s a she) evicted. It was Councilman Louis Perez who declared that a pig was destroying La Puente’s image.

The real problem with the city’s image, however, is not the pig but the council. For instance, they told the Planning Commission the pig could stay if all the planners could agree on an ordinance. But when the planners came back with a 5-0 vote to that effect, the council fired two of them.

So after two years and eight public hearings, La Puente has filed for an injunction to kick Montana out of town, an effort that is costing its taxpayers about $15,000.

Walker, who loves that pig more than Adam loved apples, has vowed to fight for her porker and has hired attorney C. Robert Ferguson, who asks: “What would you rather have living next door to you, a gentle, loving, clean, vegetarian pig or a pit bull?”

I’ll take the pig any time, as questionable as the animal’s taste in television might be. In fact, I would rather have a pig living next door to me than a member of any city council I have ever had anything to do with.

To paraphrase Mark Twain, if you crossed a gentle, quiet, honest, loyal potbellied pig with a politician, only the pig would suffer. All those who agree say oink.

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Al Martinez can be reached online at al.martinez@latimes.com.