When Support Becomes Exploitation: The Case of the Nevada Tigers 

In a quiet Nevada town earlier this month, seven tigers were removed from a private residence, sparking a legal and ethical debate that goes far beyond big cats. The man at the center of the controversy, 71-year-old Karl Mitchell, claimed these tigers were his emotional support animals—prescribed, he said, to help him cope with post-traumatic stress disorder stemming from his service in the Vietnam War.

The story quickly captured headlines, raising critical questions: Can wild animals truly serve as emotional support animals? Should they? And where do we draw the line between human need and animal rights?

Authorities who seized the tigers described alarming conditions: underweight animals, algae-ridden water, and inadequate enclosures. Mitchell, who has a history of legal troubles and is prohibited from owning firearms due to felony convictions, now faces additional charges for illegal weapon possession and resisting law enforcement.

While Mitchell insists the tigers offered him therapeutic benefit, the larger issue is the cost of that comfort—borne entirely by the animals. Tigers are apex predators, not domestic companions. Their needs extend far beyond food and shelter: they require space, environmental stimulation, and the freedom to express natural behaviors. None of these were possible in Mitchell’s backyard.

This incident isn’t isolated. Across the U.S., exotic animals are kept in private homes under the guise of emotional support or entertainment, often with little to no regulatory oversight. It’s a deeply flawed system that permits the suffering of sentient beings under the pretense of personal liberty or psychological care.

Let’s be clear: trauma is real. PTSD is real. But exploiting animals isn’t a valid or ethical form of treatment. True emotional healing should never come at the expense of another’s freedom—or survival.

The tigers have since been relocated to a sanctuary, where they are beginning a new chapter away from confinement and confusion. Their future remains uncertain, but it’s already brighter than what they left behind.

As advocates for both human and nonhuman rights, we must challenge systems that turn wild animals into property, therapy tools, or status symbols. It’s time for legislation that protects animals from exploitation, even under the most sympathetic of intentions.

Because in the end, emotional support should be mutual—not one-sided captivity.

Brandy W. Walt-Rose, Political Advocate