The temperature dips below freezing on a mid-December morning as I walk with our Animal Rescue Team across the dirt road and enter a residential property. We are here to assist the Grady County Sheriff’s Office in rescuing a range of species from an alleged large-scale animal cruelty situation.
Farm animals roam a field: A pig appears to be without food or water while the goats only have access to a frozen water trough. Kittens wander the area, even climbing atop the roof. Chained dogs, so undernourished you can see their ribs, are forced to sit on the frozen, hard ground.
Behind the house, 24 koi fish live in an above-ground pool with thick, dark-green water. Inside the garage, dozens of exotic birds, including parrots and parakeets, and fish are kept in dank and dark conditions. The birds’ barren cages are lined with feces, and the highly intelligent animals have no enrichment. Some birds have plucked out their own feathers, a sign of psychological distress. In a nearby barn, almost 100 hens and roosters live in small cages. Authorities believe they were being used for cockfighting.
On the scene in a cockfighting barn
Perhaps one of the bleakest areas of the rescue was in the barn. I was on scene as a volunteer assigned to the barn authorities believe was used for cockfighting. We had a heartbreaking but unavoidable job: In most cases, including this one, all birds involved in cockfighting need to be euthanized. There simply aren’t enough rehoming options for cockfighting birds, and euthanasia is usually necessary to prevent the spread of disease.
It’s an added layer of tragedy. Once birds are forced into cockfighting, there’s no way out. Their fate is sealed.

Meredith Lee/Humane World for Animals
Evidence found on the property—including a self-propelling treadmill and a dirt pit stained with blood splatter—suggests these birds lived a life of exploitation and suffering. On top of one cage is a pile of rooster wings next to a handheld serrated blade. Wings such as these are commonly used to test a bird’s willingness to fight and to train them for fighting, says Janette Reever, program manager of animal crimes investigations with the rescue team. A person will tie a pole or rope to the wing and move it around to encourage the rooster to attack.
My team enters a dim, dusty barn filled with tiny wire cages, each holding a rooster or hen. The birds have very little space to move, and their food bowls are empty. A rooster looks at rescuers before pecking at his empty bowl. Rescuer Justine Hill finds a bucket of food and feeds each bird. It’s all the team can do to give them some final moments of joy.
The teams document each bird’s condition before they are euthanized. After rescuers lift them from their cages, they cradle and rock them while gently talking to them. “Shh. It’s OK. It’s OK,” a rescuer says to one fidgety hen.
Some of the birds are skin and bones. One particularly underweight bird appears to be anemic. Multiple roosters have duct tape wrapped around their spurs. One by one, the veterinarians humanely euthanize them. After one such procedure, a vet whispers to herself, “What a sad, sad life.”
No rescuer wants this end for the animals, but it’s a position forced on them by the cockfighting industry. There’s a small sense of solace in knowing these birds spent their final moments being treated with compassion rather than dying violently in a cockfight. Still, it’s a somber end to an intense day.
Heather Severt/The HSUS
Protect Oklahoma’s cockfighting law
We’re working to ensure that no birds suffer the way these roosters did. But a lobbying group is trying to weaken Oklahoma’s law against cockfighting. If you live there, call your state representative and senator and urge them to oppose any bills that reduce penalties for animal fighting.