Chuco, a pit bull, was with his owner when federal agents raided a Home Depot in Barstow last month. The owner was arrested and deported to Mexico the next day, but a friend of his managed to bring the dog back to the garage where he lives.
The SPAY(CE) Project, which spays and neuters dogs in underserved areas, put out a call on Instagram to help 3-year-old Chuco and an animal rescue group agreed to take him, but then went quiet. Meanwhile, the garage owner took Chuco to an undisclosed shelter.
After repeated attempts, SPAY(CE) co-founder Esther Ruurda said her nonprofit gave up on finding the dog or a home for him, since “no one has space for an adult male Pittie these days.” So “the poor dog is left to die in the shelter.”
Chuco, a roughly 3-year-old pit bull, whose owner was deported last month. A friend took Chuco in, but his landlord reportedly dropped the dog at a shelter and would not say which one.
(SPAY(CE) Project)
It’s not an isolated incident. Since federal immigration raids, primarily targeting Latino communities, began roiling Los Angeles in early June, animal rescues and care providers across the county are hearing desperate pleas for help.
At least 15 dogs were surrendered at L.A. County animal shelters due to deportations between June 10 and July 4, according to the county’s Department of Animal Care and Control.
Pets belonging to people who are deported or flee are being left in empty apartments, dumped into the laps of unprepared friends and dropped off at overcrowded shelters, The Times found.
“Unless people do take the initiative [and get the pets out], those animals will starve to death in those backyards or those homes,” said Yvette Berke, outreach manager for Cats at the Studios, a rescue that serves L.A.
Yet with many animal refuges operating at capacity, it can be difficult to find temporary homes where pets are not at risk of euthanasia.
Fearing arrest if they go outside, some people are also forgoing healthcare for their pets, with clinics reporting a surge in no-shows and missed appointments in communities affected by the raids.
“Pets are like the collateral damage to the current political climate,” said Jennifer Naitaki, vice president of programs and strategic initiatives at the Michelson Found Animals Foundation.
Worrying data
Cats curiously watch a visitor at the AGWC Rockin’ Rescue in Woodland Hills. Manager Fabienne Origer said the center is at capacity and these pets need to be adopted to make room for others.
With shelters and rescues stuffed to the gills, an influx of pets is “another impact to an already stressed system,” Berke said.
Dogs — large ones in particular — can be hard to find homes for, some rescues said. Data show that two county shelters have seen large jumps in dogs being surrendered by their owners.
The numbers of dogs relinquished at L.A. County’s Palmdale shelter more than doubled in June compared with June of last year, according to data obtained by The Times. At the county’s Downey shelter, the count jumped by roughly 50% over the same period.
Some of this increase could be because of a loosening of requirements for giving up a pet, said Christopher Valles with L.A. County’s animal control department. In April the department eliminated a requirement that people must make an appointment to relinquish a pet.
Rocky, a 7-year-old mixed-breed dog, has been at AGWC Rockin’ Rescue for three years.
There’s no set time limit on when an animal must be adopted to avoid euthanizing, said Valles, adding that behavior or illness can make them a candidate for being put to sleep.
And there are resources for people in the deported person’s network who are willing to take on the responsibility for their pets, like 2-year-old Mocha, a female chocolate Labrador retriever who was brought in to the county’s Baldwin Park shelter in late June and is ready for adoption.
“We stand by anybody who’s in a difficult position where they can’t care for their animal because of deportation,” Valles said.
Some rescues, however, urge people not to turn to shelters because of overcrowding and high euthanasia rates.
Rates for dogs getting put down at L.A. city shelters increased 57% in April compared with the same month the previous year, according to a recent report.
L.A. Animal Services, which oversees city shelters, did not respond to requests for comment or data.
Already at the breaking point
Fabienne Origer, manager of AGWC Rockin’ Rescue, with Gracie, a 4-week-old kitten found on Ventura Boulevard and brought to the center a week ago.
Every day, Fabienne Origer is bombarded with 10 to 20 calls asking if AGWC Rockin’ Rescue in Woodland Hills, which she manages, can take in dogs and cats. She estimates that one to two of those pleas are now related to immigration issues.
The rescue, like many others, is full.
Part of the reason is that many people adopted pets during the COVID-19 crisis — when they were stuck at home — and dumped them when the world opened back up, she said.
Skyrocketing cost of living and veterinary care expenses have also prompted people to get rid of their pet family members, several rescues said. Vet prices have surged by 60% over a decade.
L.A. Animal Services reported “critical overcrowding” in May, with more than 900 dogs in its custody.
“It’s already bad, but now on top of that, a lot of requests are because people have disappeared, because people have been deported, and if we can take a cat or two dogs,” Origer said. “It’s just ongoing, every single day.”
Wounds you can’t see
Assistant manager Antonia Schumann pets a couple of dogs at AGWC Rockin’ Rescue.
Animals suffer from the emotional strain of separation and unceremonious change when their owners vanish, experts said.
When a mother and three young daughters from Nicaragua who were pursuing asylum in the U.S. were unexpectedly deported in May following a routine hearing, they left behind their beloved senior dog.
She was taken in by the mother’s stepmom. Not long after, the small dog had to be ushered into surgery to treat a life-threatening mass.
The small dog is on the mend physically, but “is clearly depressed, barely functioning and missing her family,” the stepmother wrote in a statement provided to the Community Animal Medicine Project (CAMP), which paid for the surgery. She’s used to spending all day with the girls and sleeping with them at night, the stepmom said.
From Nicaragua, the girls have been asking to get their dog back. For now, they’re using FaceTime.
Shirley and Bruno lounge in their space at AGWC Rockin’ Rescue. They have been there for five years.
Prior to the ICE raids, 80 to 100 people often lined up for services at clinics run by the Latino Alliance for Animal Care Foundation.
Now such a line could draw attention, so the Alliance staggers appointments, according to Jose Sandoval, executive director of the Panorama City-based organization that provides education and services to Latino families.
“It’s hitting our ‘hood,” Sandoval said, “and we couldn’t just sit there and not do anything.”
Within two hours of offering free services — including vaccines and flea medication refills — to people affected by ICE raids, they received about 15 calls.
CAMP, whose staff is almost entirely people of color and Spanish speaking, is mulling reviving telehealth options and partnering to deliver baskets of urgently needed pet goods. It’s drilling staffers on what to do if immigration officers show up at the workplace.
“Humans aren’t leaving their house for themselves, so if their dog has an earache they may hesitate to go out to their vet, but animals will suffer,” said Alanna Klein, strategy and engagement officer for CAMP. “We totally understand why they’re not doing it, but [pets] are alongside humans in being impacted by this.”
CAMP has seen a 20%-30% increase in missed appointments since the first week of June, for everything from spay and neuter to wellness exams to surgical procedures. After a video of an ICE raid at a car dealership near CAMP’s clinic in Mission Hills circulated in mid-June, they had 20 no-shows — highly unusual.
“We’re forced to operate under the extreme pressure and in the midst of this collective trauma,” said Zoey Knittel, executive director of CAMP, “but we’ll continue doing it because we believe healthcare should be accessible to all dogs and cats, regardless of their family, socioeconomic or immigration status.”
