The Short Life & Tragic Death of Chai

On June 4, 2024, Chai, a brown and white “pitty-mix,” was surrendered to Columbus Animal Care & Control in Georgia. The reason for surrender was listed as “no room.”

After her family left, Chai watched the door, waiting for them to return. They didn’t. Still, she was one to two years old and had her whole life ahead of her. And through the agency that is supposed to give dogs like Chai a second chance when things go wrong, she could find a worthy family — one that would give her the life she deserved. This was especially true for a dog like Chai, described on her paperwork as “affectionate” and “playful,” and good with everyone: cats, dogs, men, women, kids, and strangers. Indeed, volunteers who knew her at CACC echoed those sentiments, calling her a “great dog” who got along with others.¹

Chai with a volunteer.

Unfortunately, that didn’t protect her from being killed by pound staff — and killed in a manner that was unprofessional, uncaring, cruel, and potentially illegal.

As seen on video obtained under the Georgia Public Records Act, staff botched what appears to be six attempts to inject her with a lethal dose of barbiturates. After the first two failed, Columbus Animal Allies notes that “Chai gets up, almost knocks over a chair, walks at least 10 feet away from the original area, and continues to struggle while being held down by a CACC staff member.”

Staff would bungle several more attempts to kill her by intravenous injection (IV) before resorting to intracardiac injection — heartsticking her — a process that involves plunging a syringe through the chest wall and several layers of muscle into a dog’s heart. An animal killed by a heartstick feels extreme, severe pain (due to the amount of nerves) and then suffers a heart attack.

To get to the heart, the needle would have to penetrate the skin, body wall with costal musculature, costal pleura, pleural cavity, pericardial pleura, fibrous pericardium, serous pericardium, pericardial cavity, epicardium, myocardium, endocardium, ventricular chamber, and if the lung is penetrated, the needle must pass through the pulmonary pleura and lung tissue itself. It is so painful that Georgia law only allows it to be done when the dog is unconscious. (GA Code § 4-11-5.1(a)(3).)

According to the supervising veterinarian, the IV injections failed for two reasons. First, the staff did not give Chai enough anesthetic agent to fully sedate her — only two cc’s instead of four. They didn’t give her the amount appropriate for her weight because they finished the bottle and “hoped” that would be enough rather than taking the time to open another one to administer the correct dosage.

Second, they didn’t wait enough time for the anesthetic to take effect. This would suggest that she was conscious when stabbed in the heart with the needle, which is not only painful but also illegal. The supervising veterinarian, however, denies it. He claims that although Chai was not given enough of the drugs to kill her during the attempts at IV, she was given enough to render her unconscious.

What is not in dispute is that after heartsticking her, the employees leave while Chai is still alive. That, too, is illegal under Georgia law: “No dog or cat may be left unattended between the time euthanasia procedures are first begun and the time death occurs.” (GA Code § 4-11-5.1(g).)

According to Columbus Animal Allies, “Chai lies on the floor alone with the syringe sticking out of her side, the syringe visibly moving several times. Employees step over her carrying brooms and mops.” Later, “the syringe sticking out of her body begins moving frantically. In the following minutes, the syringe continues to move periodically as employees step over her.”

None of the employees show her any concern or regard while she lies on the floor. Moreover, “CACC employees walk multiple dogs on leashes past Chai while she lies dying on the floor, a cart full of dead dogs waiting a few yards away.”

It is also a violation of Georgia law for a dog to be “disposed of until death is confirmed by a qualified person.” (GA Code § 4-11-5.1(g).) That never happens. Instead, “an employee struggles to pull a heavy cart full of dead dogs closer to Chai. That employee and another staff member pick up Chai by the legs and throw her into the cart.” Later, “two employees remove another dead dog from a run, carry the dog past a row of runs as living dogs look on, and toss that dog’s body in the cart next to Chai’s.”

The release of the video showing Chai’s bungled execution caused an uproar. Responding to public complaints, the supervising veterinarian wrote a letter to the city manager, director of public works, and animal control division manager, stating that except for killing Chai in the kennels (in front of other dogs) rather than in the designated room, “no wrongdoing took place, and all processes and procedures were followed during the euthanasia [killing] process.” This was not honest. Indeed, under questioning by councilors, the veterinarian admitted that the staff only used two cc’s of general anesthetic. “It should have been three or four.”

He admitted that Chai “should be totally under a general anesthetic before any attempt at an intravenous injection is made.” She wasn’t.

He admitted that they are required to verify death, and “that did not happen.”

He further admitted, “A stethoscope in this case should have been used. I don't know why it wasn’t.”

But there’s more. On the paperwork, CACC staff claimed that Chai was killed by intravenous injection, the standard method, instead of intracardiac heartstick. She wasn’t.

And when asked about the cart with dead dogs, the supervising veterinarian inexplicably testified, “I'm actually glad that there’s a couple of dogs in a container like that.” How better to shock the public?

While tragic, none of this is surprising. In addition to other videos showing CACC employees making jokes about harming dogs and calling for heartsticking dogs to avoid working late, Columbus Animal Allies has “been raising serious concerns about inhumane treatment of animals, possible violations of state law, falsification of records, and other issues at CACC for well over a year.” These issues include kittens dying in their cages from dehydration and, despite that it is illegal to do so, threatening to fire volunteers for expressing concerns about animal care if pound staff claim it was written in a “derogatory” manner.

Citizens not only have a First Amendment right to speak out against government policies with which they disagree, but they also have a constitutionally protected right to demand that the government correct the identified wrongs. As the U.S. Supreme Court has consistently ruled, such speech lies “at the heart of the First Amendment’s protection.” That government officials do not like the tone is irrelevant: “Official censorship based on a state actor’s subjective judgment that the content of protected speech is offensive or inappropriate is viewpoint discrimination.”

When lives are at stake — as they are when animals enter a pound like CACC that has not fully embraced a culture of lifesaving — banning volunteers critical of policies is even more egregious given the life and death consequences. 

And the consequences are life and death. In 2023, the number of dogs killed at CACC was up 50% from pre-pandemic levels (2019). The number of cats killed climbed 37%. And those numbers do not include other negative outcomes, such as deaths in kennel and missing animals, which the agency does not publicly report on its website. Those numbers can range from a few animals to dozens per month. For example, in June of 2023, 20 cats were listed as died in kennel and escaped/missing. In September, there were three dogs and 18 cats.

The numbers also underscore another problem: the placement rate is born on the backs of rescuers. In 2023, CACC only adopted out 148 out of 1,606 cats. Rescuers saved 1,271. While CACC adopted out 592 of 2,689 dogs, rescuers pulled much more than that: 1,023. At a well-functioning shelter, rescuers should account for no more than 20% of all positive outcomes. By contrast, rescuers are responsible for 45% of all CACC dog placements and a staggering 89% for cats. Without rescuers, CACC would be an absolute blood bath. The agency is falling down on the job.

But despite these problems, the supervising veterinarian claims that there is nothing more CACC should be asked to do because there is no “solution.” And because there is no solution, he says that animal control will “always be a bad guy.” This, too, is false. The solution is comprehensive implementation of the programs and services of the No Kill Equation. These programs are humane, readily available, affordable, and — when comprehensively implemented to the point that they replace killing entirely — effective. In shelters that have done so, upwards of 99% of the animals who come in through the front door will also go out the front door in the loving arms of families. 

Why doesn’t this happen?

A national study may shed some light. Looking at the culture of employees in animal control agencies nationwide, study authors found that in too many facilities, “attempting to find alternative methods to this type of unwanted animal ‘solution’ [killing] really was seen as challenging the dominant paradigm” and discouraged. Instead of people passionate about animals and fully committed to No Kill outcomes, managers tend to hire people who work only for a paycheck because passionate workers try to improve conditions — and when they are prevented from doing so, they quit. One manager at such a facility stated flatly that,

[T]he best employees here are the ones that have done some normal work outside, like worked for McDonald’s [and] realize, ‘Hey, you do as you’re told, you get on with it, you follow the procedures, and you don’t make up your own mind [about how to do the work and whom to save].’

The study also determined that most pounds operated without guidelines and were haphazard in deciding which animals to kill. Killing decisions often depended on the whims of individual staff. Indeed, Columbus Animal Allies has long complained about the lack of written standard operating procedures at CACC.

So it is not surprising that when one of the councilors asked why Chai was killed, the supervising veterinarian didn’t know. Instead, he stated, “I have nothing to do with the protocol of choosing who gets put down” and “I have no input in that and never know from day to day, you know, who is on that list.” That’s a problem. It also violates the mission. 

The Department of Public Works — which “oversees” CACC as well as sanitation/trash collection — claims it is committed to being “innovative” and to using “industry best practices.” But like the protocols that should have protected Chai, these are not being implemented.

If elected officials really want to protect animals — and the people who love them — they need to do three things.

First, they should discipline everyone involved and, to the extent state laws were violated, refer the case to the district attorney for possible criminal prosecution.

Second, while the veterinarian claims there is no “solution” to killing, there is — and it starts with codifying the programs and services of the No Kill Equation into law. 

Third, they must remove CACC from the Department of Public Works. Typically, shelters placed under the auspices of other departments tend to “adopt” the mission of those parent departments, often to the great detriment of animals.

For example, agencies placed under the control of police departments tend to focus primarily, if not exclusively, on “public safety.” Animals are erroneously seen as a “public safety” threat that must be eliminated. Similarly, agencies placed under health departments tend to focus primarily, if not exclusively, on “public health.” Animals are erroneously seen as a “public health” threat that must be eradicated.

And, like CACC, some agencies are placed under the control of sanitation departments. What does this say about the government’s commitment to lost and homeless animals? The perception is that they are viewed as akin to “trash” that needs to be “picked up” and thrown “away.” That is what happened to Chai, who was literally tossed in a dumpster and discarded in a landfill.

Ideally, municipalities should establish shelters as standalone departments. Doing so demonstrates a commitment to improving service delivery, meeting public expectations, and, most importantly, protecting the lives and interests of animals.

In short, councilors need to take the “shelter” away from the trash department, pass comprehensive animal protection laws, and hold staff accountable to those laws. Until they do, animals will continue to die, rescuers will continue to do the lion’s share of the work, and those who are supposed to protect animals will continue to harm them. 

1. Relying on claims by staff, the supervising veterinarian disputed that Chai was friendly. However, he continuously referred to Chai as “he” and “him” in testimony before the council, even though Chai was female, indicating he was unfamiliar with her. In addition, her complete impound record did not indicate any adverse behavior. And Chai could be seen wagging her tail “as she was being injected with the first syringe” of what would be seven attempts to kill her.