In the quiet farmland of Southwold, Ontario, a man who had fought all the way to Canada's Supreme Court for the right to live alongside lions and tigers met his end inside one of their enclosures in January 2010. Norman Buwalda, 66, had long believed that the bond between human and wild animal could be governed by trust rather than instinct — a conviction that had already cost a child serious injury six years prior. His death raises an enduring question that courts cannot settle: whether the human desire to possess the wild can ever truly be reconciled with the nature of wildness itself.
Exotic animal owner killed by pet tiger after years fighting ban
He trusted animals more than people. He felt closer to animals than people.
So Buwalda won his legal fight. He got the ban overturned. Why did he keep the animals after a child had already been hurt?
He believed he had the right to. The court agreed with him—the bylaw was ruled too broad. And he was chairman of an association for exotic animal owners. This was his identity, his conviction.
But we should be clear: he was never charged for the 2004 attack. The police had legal grounds not to prosecute because he held permits. That's a different question from whether he should have kept them.
What was his relationship with his neighbors like?
Tense. He'd been in disputes with them for years over the animals. But some of them saw something else in him—loneliness, isolation. One neighbor said he trusted animals more than people.
That's a neighbor's interpretation, though. We don't have Buwalda's own account of why he did what he did. He's not here to explain himself.
And after he died, what happened to the animals?
The entire collection was broken up. The tiger that killed him was rehomed. The operation ended.
The source doesn't specify where the animals went or what their fates were—just that they were dispersed and rehomed. We know the collection was disbanded, but the details of that process aren't in the reporting.
Do we know if anyone else was ever hurt besides the boy in 2004?
Not from this source. The 2004 attack is the only other incident mentioned. There may have been others, but we can't say that based on what we have.
Il Polso
- A 66-year-old man entered his tiger's enclosure to feed it and was killed — his body discovered by a relative before police arrived to find the animal still prowling its pen.
- This was not a sudden lapse in judgment but the final chapter of a decade defined by escalating risk, including a 2004 attack that left a 10-year-old boy with serious wounds to his head and neck.
- Rather than retreat after the child's mauling, Buwalda mounted a legal crusade that reached Canada's Supreme Court and won, overturning a township ban on exotic animal ownership.
- Neighbors described a man who trusted animals more than people — fiercely independent, perhaps lonely — convinced his lions, tigers, and cougar posed no danger to anyone.
- With his death, the collection he had sacrificed so much to keep was dispersed and rehomed, and the private wildlife operation that had survived courts and controversy was quietly dissolved.
In the quiet farmland of Southwold, Ontario, a man who had fought all the way to Canada's Supreme Court for the right to live alongside lions and tigers met his end inside one of their enclosures in January 2010. Norman Buwalda, 66, had long believed that the bond between human and wild animal could be governed by trust rather than instinct — a conviction that had already cost a child serious injury six years prior. His death raises an enduring question that courts cannot settle: whether the human desire to possess the wild can ever truly be reconciled with the nature of wildness itself.
On January 10, 2010, Norman Buwalda entered the enclosure of his 47-stone tiger on his Southwold, Ontario estate to feed the animal. He did not come back out. A relative found his body and managed to secure the tiger before calling emergency services. Ontario Provincial Police arrived to find the cat contained but restless. No one had witnessed the attack itself.
The tragedy was not without precedent. In June 2004, a 10-year-old boy visiting Buwalda's property to photograph a Siberian tiger for a school report lost his footing near the chained animal and was mauled, sustaining serious wounds to his head and neck. The incident alarmed the community, and Southwold Township introduced a bylaw banning exotic animals on private property.
Buwalda, chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association, refused to comply. He challenged the bylaw through the courts, ultimately winning at Canada's Supreme Court after an Ontario Superior Court judge ruled the regulation excessively broad. The two-year legal battle was costly, but it preserved his right to keep his collection: two lions, two tigers, and a cougar, housed in a screened outbuilding on his estate.
Neighbors remembered him as a wealthy Dutch-born man who had become a fixture of local controversy — someone who, according to one neighbor, once said he trusted animals more than people. Another reflected after his death that while the tiger could not be blamed for acting on instinct, his home had never been the right place for such creatures.
Following the fatal mauling, Buwalda's entire collection was dispersed and rehomed. The operation he had fought so hard to protect — surviving a child's injury, a municipal ban, and a Supreme Court challenge — came to an end. No law had ever been broken. But no law, in the end, could shield him from the nature of the animals he had chosen to call his own.
Norman Buwalda, a 66-year-old Dutch-born exotic animal owner in Southwold, Ontario, entered a tiger's enclosure on January 10, 2010, to feed the animal. He did not leave alive. The tiger, weighing 47 stone, attacked and killed him. A relative discovered his mutilated body and managed to secure the cat in a separate section of the pen before calling emergency services. When Ontario Provincial Police arrived, the tiger was contained but prowling. Constable Troy Carlson noted that no one had witnessed the attack itself. "We don't know what actually took place," he said, "but the tiger ended up attacking him and killing him."
Buwalda's death was not an isolated tragedy born from a moment of carelessness. It was the culmination of a decade-long pattern of risk that he had fought fiercely to protect. Six years earlier, in June 2004, a 10-year-old boy had been mauled by a Siberian tiger on Buwalda's property. The child had been brought out to photograph the animal for a school report, tethered on a heavy chain lead. The boy lost his footing, fell near the tiger, and was attacked. He sustained serious wounds to his head and neck and required hospitalization. The incident triggered alarm among neighbors and local officials.
Southwold Township responded by introducing a bylaw that banned the keeping of exotic animals on private property. Buwalda, who served as chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association, refused to accept the restriction. He challenged the bylaw in court, and in a significant legal victory, an Ontario Superior Court judge ruled the regulation flawed and excessively broad. Buwalda appealed the decision all the way to Canada's Supreme Court and won. The legal battle consumed two years of his life and his resources, but it secured his right to continue his operation.
With the ban overturned, Buwalda maintained his collection: two lions, two tigers, and a cougar, all housed in a screened outbuilding on his estate. He was a wealthy man who had moved from the Netherlands and had become a fixture of local controversy. Neighbors knew him as someone who kept dangerous animals and who had fought the township's attempt to remove them. Joanne Does, who lived nearby, told the Toronto Star that Buwalda had once told her he trusted animals more than people. "He felt closer to animals than people," she recalled. She described him as appearing bullying but ultimately as a lonely, sad man. Patricia England, another neighbor, remembered Buwalda insisting that his animals were harmless. After his death, she reflected that while it was not the animal's fault—tigers do what tigers do—his home had never been the right place for them.
Following the fatal mauling, Buwalda's entire collection was dispersed. The tiger that killed him was removed and rehomed. The exotic animal operation that he had fought so hard to preserve, that had survived a child's serious injury and a township ban and a Supreme Court challenge, ended. No prosecution had ever been brought against Buwalda for the 2004 attack on the boy; he held legal permission to own the creatures. But the law that had protected his right to keep them could not protect him from the consequences of that choice.
Citazioni salienti
We don't know what actually took place because no one witnessed it, but the tiger ended up attacking him and killing him.— Ontario Provincial Police Constable Troy Carlson
It's not the animal's fault. It was just doing what a tiger does.— Neighbor Patricia England