This column is usually where I bring you the “bubbling up” of new ideas and thoughtful perspectives from the world of animal welfare. This week, I do not have percolating ideas or fun information for you. This week, I am simply sad.
In 2025, the Animal Legal Defense Fund ranked Maine second in the nation for the strongest animal protection laws. I understand why — Maine has some of the most compassionate, animal-loving residents I have ever encountered. It does not surprise me that we have created some of the best legal protections for our animals in the country.
Unfortunately, laws are only as strong as their enforcement. There is a serial neglecter of animals here in Maine. This individual is widely known by local animal control officers and the Maine Animal Welfare Program alike. Her animals have been seized repeatedly, but she just gets more from rehoming sites. Charges have been brought against her and then dropped. She moves towns regularly.
This week, we received animals seized from her for the third time. Prior to their arrival, we learned whose care they would be coming from and the staff’s reactions were varied and visceral. Some were angry. Some cried. Others simply sat silently, absorbing the information. We rallied as we always do, because the animals needed us, but our hearts were heavy.
Upon arrival, the animals’ conditions ran the gamut from unremarkable, just dirty, to extremely poor. One has since died from a deadly but entirely preventable disease. The rest are doing well and while we wait for next steps, they are getting the best care we can give them.
Pets live almost entirely at the mercy of humans. They do not get to choose where or with whom they live or even whether they will get to eat today. They are reliant on humans to make good decisions for them. Seeing a person repeatedly make such damaging choices with deeply devastating impacts and remain free to continue doing so is crushing to those who have dedicated their careers to caring for animals.
I am sad because I feel helpless. Helpless to prevent future suffering at her hands, helpless to impact a system that appears, from my perspective, to be woefully insufficient and helpless to share the information that needs to be shared to prevent this person from continuing to engage in this destructive cycle.
I know I will rally. My natural optimism always reasserts itself and I jump back into the fray, but today I am mourning. I am taking a moment of sorrow for the pets who have died, alone and afraid, cold and hungry, at the hands of a person who should never have had the gift of their beautiful lives in the first place. Because every pet should have someone mourn their death and every victim of abuse should have someone grieve their suffering.
Jess Townsend is executive director of Midcoast Humane.
