Animal rescue in Puerto Rico is a mission fraught with bureaucratic hurdles, legal threats, and community resistance. Despite the island’s official stance on animal welfare, rescuers face an uphill battle against a system that often seems more interested in maintaining appearances than enforcing humane treatment of animals. Erica Marie Erickson, founder of Playa Animal Welfare Services, Inc (Playa Paws), offers a firsthand account of these challenges and the urgent need for change.
In 2008, Puerto Rico passed Law 154, which was designed to protect animals and support rescue organizations. However, as Erickson points out, the law has been largely ignored. “The government violates this law with impunity,” she says. “The law calls for the government to collaborate with and support rescue organizations to help improve animal welfare on the island, but the government does not do this.” Despite the law requiring every municipality to provide animal services, fewer than 10% of the island’s municipalities are in compliance, even 16 years after the law’s enactment.
Erickson’s experience in Anasco, a town with no animal services whatsoever, highlights the government’s negligence. “Instead of supporting rescues, they act in a manner hostile to them,” she explains. “They go out of their way to shut them down. The police showed up in force and raided my rescue, taking all of my animals, supplies, documents, and money. The police and government are highly corrupt, and the Puerto Rico courts never hold them accountable.”
Legal threats to animal rescues in Puerto Rico often come not from formal lawsuits but from a more insidious policy of extermination. The government has contracted extermination companies to round up and kill stray animals, a practice that Erickson describes as “island-wide extermination of any and all cats and dogs found living on the streets.” These companies operate with little to no oversight, often violating laws that require a 30-day holding period for stray animals to give owners a chance to reclaim them. Erickson recalls a recent case where a famous local rapper’s dog was picked up and killed without any attempt to reunite the pet with its owner. “Despite laws being in place to prevent this, the government of Puerto Rico refuses to follow its own laws and instead has opted for a policy of island-wide killing because it is quicker and easier than following the law or working with rescues,” Erickson states.
The plight of the cats in Old San Juan is another stark example of this policy in action. The National Parks Service (NPS) and Puerto Rican government have approved a plan to eliminate the colony of cats that has lived in the area for over 500 years. Despite the efforts of local rescues like Save a Gato, which has successfully reduced the cat population from over 500 to just 100 through sterilization and adoption programs, the government has decided to proceed with their removal. Erickson highlights the hypocrisy of this decision, noting that “Puerto Rico wants to maintain an image that they treat animals in a humane manner, but their actions speak volumes and convey a very different message.”
Rescue organizations and independent rescuers often face fierce opposition from their own communities. Erickson experienced this firsthand when her neighbors complained about her rescue efforts, despite her compliance with all relevant laws. “I became the target of those in the neighborhood who despise street animals and see them as a nuisance that needs to be eliminated, instead of humanely dealt with,” she says. The hostility from neighbors can be relentless, leading to calls to the police, health department, and even local news outlets, which can further endanger the rescues’ operations.
Overcoming this resistance is challenging, as legal recourse against such harassment is limited. Erickson advises that the best way to avoid such conflicts is to “buy a property in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors in sight,” though she acknowledges that this is not feasible for most rescuers. The alternative is to endure long commutes for supplies, frequent outages of power and water, and a lack of veterinary care in rural areas.
The challenges faced by animal rescuers in Puerto Rico differ significantly from those encountered on the mainland U.S. Cultural attitudes towards animals, widespread poverty, and the tropical climate all contribute to the dire situation. “There is very little support for using tax money to help with spay and neuter initiatives, building shelters, or doing anything to help humanely address the stray problem,” Erickson notes. The tropical climate, which allows for year-round breeding, exacerbates the situation, leading to nearly a million cats and dogs living on the streets.
Despite these overwhelming challenges, some progress has been made through “spayathon” events, where U.S. vets sponsor free sterilization for tens of thousands of animals. However, even these initiatives have faced opposition from local veterinarians who see them as competition. Erickson recounts how this opposition led to the temporary shutdown of the spayathon, only for it to resume after public outcry and a new law allowing U.S.-licensed vets to practice in Puerto Rico.
Transporting animals from Puerto Rico to no-kill shelters on the mainland U.S. is a costly and complex process. While there are no significant legal barriers, the financial burden is substantial. Erickson, who has personally taken over 100 flights to bring cats from Puerto Rico to adopters and rescues on the mainland, describes the process as “very expensive and inefficient.” The cost of plane tickets, combined with airline fees for pets, often runs into hundreds of dollars per flight. Despite her “elite status” with budget airlines Spirit and Frontier, which waive pet fees, Erickson still struggles with the costs.
Looking ahead, Erickson had hoped to continue flying lessons in order to eventually transport more animals at once, but her current struggles have put those plans on hold. Some larger rescues have managed to secure cargo flights for transporting hundreds of animals, but these opportunities are rare and typically limited to the largest organizations.
The situation for animal rescuers in Puerto Rico is dire, and the need for reform is urgent. From government negligence and legal threats to community resistance and financial barriers, the challenges are immense. Erickson’s experiences offer a stark reminder of the systemic issues that plague animal welfare on the island. Without significant changes to both the legal framework and cultural attitudes towards animals, the future for Puerto Rico’s stray animals remains bleak.
Erickson’s story is a call to action for all who care about animal welfare. The time for reform is now, before more lives are lost to a system that prioritizes convenience over compassion. “Puerto Rico wants to maintain an image that they treat animals in a humane manner, but their actions speak volumes and convey a very different message,” Erickson concludes. It’s a message that needs to change, and it will only happen through sustained advocacy, legal reform, and community support.
