The ham had gone on the lam.
The jig was up for the pig.The swine was doing time.
Tha-tha-tha-a-a-at's all, folks.
But it was the chance overhearing of a comment at the state courthouse that got me thinking seriously about the skinny on porky.
"They've got Esther in jail," said Carolyn Manning of Salt Lake.
It seems the animal control folks had picked up Esther, a pot-bellied pig, because you can't keep pot-bellies in an urban setting (I mean other than the one with the stubble on the couch, belching and surfing sports channels).
Salt Lake County officials consider pot-bellied pigs livestock intended for agricultural environs. They confronted Manning. She defended Esther, even though she was only Babe-y sitting for a relative.
Manning's own pet pot, Madison, was nowhere near the "crime scene."
But sticking up for Esther got Manning in hot water with the pig patrol, which has taken the whole mess to court. She doesn't think that's right. Pot-bellied pigs are as eligible for domestication as any pooch, she believes.
"They're smarter than dogs," Manning said. "They don't smell, don't bark, don't growl. They make the best pet you can find."
Vicki Judah goes along with a fair amount of that. A licensed veterinary technician at Bird and Exotic Pet Hospital in Midvale, Judah says pigs make swell pals, if you understand them.
"Pigs are extremely smart," Judah said. "That saying, 'Dirty as a pig?' Incorrect. They're very clean animals. They're naturally housebroken. They prefer not to soil their own environment."
Downsides?
"Dogs grow up to be your best friend," Judah said. "Pigs grow up to be president."
I take it, Vicki, you speak metaphorically here and refer not to the behavior or silhouette of the current White House occupant.
"No," she said, laughing, "I mean pigs want to be the head honcho. They'll try to rule the house if you're not careful."
Pot-bellies (pigs, not prezes) typically grow to 80 to 120 pounds, compared to the "land-raised, bacon-back, 400-pound farm animal," as Judah puts it. So is there a difference, pet-wise, between a pot-belly and your basic big hairy porker?
"Pigs be pigs," Judah said.
Well, I've never personally known a pot-bellied pig. But I am going to stick my snout in here and say: Free Esther! Swine power! Let pigs be pets.
I mean, first of all, there's no doubt in my mind a pig is considerably smarter than a lot of species.
For instance, Arnold the pig was by far the best and brightest actor on the old "Green Acres" show, although with a Gabor in the lineup, you'd probably have to say they unfairly spotted Mr. Ziffel's buddy several IQ points to begin with.
Intellect aside, there are all the noble contributions pigs have given society.
How would we keep politicians off the street if they had no pork to divvy?
Who would prevent the big bad wolf from huffing down our houses if not for the three little pigs?
How would we pay the light bill if we couldn't crack the piggy bank?
Where could we hoist our kids for rides if not for piggy-backs?
What would we do with Willie Nelson's hair if it wasn't in a pigtail?
How could we reprimand our teenagers if we didn't remind them their rooms resemble pigsties?
What would we say "wee-wee-wee" to if not for this-little-piggies?
Where would we be Saturdays and Sundays, had pigs not sacrificed their very skins for spheroids hurled in perfect spirals on perfect fall afternoons?
We'd be a long way from hog heaven, I think you'll agree.
There can be no better way to say it than the elegant language our friends of the porcine persuasion have given us: pig Latin.
Et-lay the igs-pay iv-lay in eace-pay.
Send e-mail to gtwyman@desnews.com, fax 801-237-2121. Gib Twyman's column runs Saturdays.