Pet pigs aren’t legal in Boston, but one pig hopes to change that
Strange things appear in downtown Boston all the time. But the sight of a pig near Quincy Market on a busy recent Saturday afternoon was unusual enough to draw dozens of curious looks, and more than a few cellphone snapshots.
Wiggy, a year-old pink-and-black-spotted mini pig, about the size of a small dog, patiently pushed his snout into the lawn, searching for worms, tail swinging back and forth. No luck. He moved on, oblivious to all the attention.
“He always has a purpose for what he’s doing,’’ said Ashley Shaw, 23, Wiggy’s owner.
Perhaps he gets it from her.
Shaw’s visit was no mere summer idyll but part of a quiet, frustrating campaign — to change an obscure Boston ordinance that views her porcine pet (who has achieved a modest celebrity on Snapchat) as an outlaw.
A 1991 measure, the most recent update in a line of similar restrictions dating back to the 19th century, prohibits Boston residents from having farm animals within city limits without a permit from the Division of Health Inspections.
Amanda Kennedy, director of animal care and control, said the law wasn’t written with the specific intent of excluding pet pigs.She said that, to her knowledge, there were not many pigs around when the City Council revisited the issue a quarter-century ago, so there was no significant pushback. As far as Kennedy is aware, no one is trying to change the restriction on behalf of other farm animals.
“When we see someone with a pig, we let the person know they’re not allowed,’’ she said. “We usually give them time to rectify the situation, but we have the power to seize the animal.’’
Kennedy said she has had to seize a pet pig only once. Most of the time, animal-control officers give owners time to find new homes for their pets because they want to respect the bond they have.
Despite that risk, Shaw brings Wiggy, who travels in a stroller, to downtown Boston nearly every weekend from Somerset, where she lives with her boyfriend. Wiggy combs the lawn for snacks, and when people stop to take pictures, Shaw chats them up. By educating them, she’s hoping to drum up support to change the ordinance.
“I try to keep him on the down low,’’ Shaw said as a group of students on a field trip surrounded Wiggy, smartphones in hand. “I just want to show people what a great pet he is. Pigs are really misunderstood.’’
City officials say they have not received any applications for pig permits. But the popularity of the animals is undeniable. Over the past 20 years, the number of “mini pigs’’ — a catch-all name for any small breed of pig — has quintupled in the United States and Canada, from about 200,000 to a million.
Starting in the late 1980s and for about a decade after, Vietnamese potbellied pigs were a fad nationwide — in 1993, the Globe reported on a Brighton man who had run afoul of the Boston ordinance and been ordered to remove his potbellied pal, Oscar Meyer, from his apartment.
Of course, not all alleged minis are; horror stories abound of 3-pound pigs growing to 500 pounds in two years. Unscrupulous breeders frequently underfeed pigs to keep their weight down or sell piglets as adults. Many pigs have been euthanized or surrendered to shelters because of such scams.
Annette Herbst, a veterinarian who started breeding mini pigs five years ago in Buzzards Bay, said people often misjudge what having a pet pig is like. They expect them to behave like cats or dogs, but pigs are smarter, stronger-willed, and more independent.
“Pigs don’t really care that much about what makes you happy,’’ she said. “They also get bored, so they do need a lot of attention.’’
Before Herbst sells anyone a mini pig, she asks them to check their town’s laws regarding farm animals. A few years ago, one of her buyers had to surrender a pig because she lived in Boston. Some municipalities allow pigs to be kept as pets, including Quincy and Medford. However, pig lovers in New York and Chicago face ordinances that ban pigs.
Shaw adopted Wiggy from a breeder on Craigslist. (Luckily, the pig weighs in at 35 pounds and shows no signs of rapid growth.) She had many pets while growing up, from horses to chickens to goats, so getting a pet pig was a no-brainer for her.
While Wiggy is spoiled, Shaw keeps him on a strict diet. He eats fruits and vegetables with the occasional french fry — his favorite food. He bathes regularly, but not without throwing a temper tantrum. He sleeps with his owners in their bed at night. Shaw said that Wiggy is a snorer and dreams about eating, smacking his lips noisily.
In April, animal-control officers told Shaw that it was illegal to bring Wiggy into the city. She said she called them multiple times to ask them how to change the ordinance, but she said her calls weren’t returned. Shaw then tried to contact the Department of Public Health, but ran into walls there, too. Eventually, noticing that most people were not aware of the ordinance, she started her campaign.
Shaw and her boyfriend, Joshua Rodriguez, said they support Tito Jackson in this year’s mayoral election because they believe he will make it legal for pigs to be in the city. Jackson’s team did a lot of research on the restriction for Shaw, and he has posted a picture of Wiggy on Instagram. Neither Jackson nor his staff responded to repeated requests for comment.
Eventually, Shaw wants to join the street performer program in Quincy Market with Wiggy. His repertoire of tricks so far? Playing the piano and doing handstands. Shaw is also planning to get a chicken so she can teach it to ride on Wiggy’s back.
“My favorite thing about Wiggy is that he makes everyone happy,’’ Shaw said. “Sometimes we sneak up on crying kids together and they stop when they see him and start laughing.
