In January 2010, on a rural Ontario property, a man who had spent years in court defending his right to live alongside lions, tigers, and a cougar met his end inside the very cage he had fought to keep. Norman Buwalda, 66, was killed by his pet tiger — an animal that had already mauled a child six years prior, prompting a legal battle Buwalda ultimately won. His death asks a question that outlasts him: where does the boundary lie between a person's sovereign claim over their own land and the wild, indifferent nature of the creatures they choose to bring inside it?
Man who won legal battle to keep tigers killed by his own 47-stone pet
He trusted animals more than people. He felt closer to animals.
So he actually won the court case? He fought the township and won?
Yes. An Ontario Superior Court judge ruled the bylaw was flawed and too broad. Legally, he had every right to keep those animals.
But did he face any consequences for the 2004 attack on the child? Any civil liability?
The reporting doesn't indicate he was charged or sued. He was legally entitled to own the animals, so there was no legal violation.
And the neighbours knew what was happening. They'd been fighting it for years.
They had. Nearly half a decade of attempts to get the animals removed, all unsuccessful. They were living near a man with lions and tigers in screened-in pens.
What's striking is that one neighbour said he trusted animals more than people. That's a pretty clear window into his thinking.
Right. And another neighbour said he was lonely, that he appeared like a bully but was actually a sad man. There's something about isolation there.
Do we know anything about how he came to own these animals in the first place? His background?
The reporting identifies him as a wealthy Dutch native and chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association, but that's really all we have. We don't know his full story.
What we do know is that he won a legal battle to keep them, and then one of them killed him while he was doing the most routine thing—feeding it.
And the tiger itself—what happened to it?
It was taken away and rehomed. The whole collection was disbanded after his death.
Der Puls
- A 66-year-old man entered his tiger's enclosure on an ordinary January morning and did not come out alive — his body discovered by a family member, the animal still pacing its pen when police arrived.
- This was not the first time Buwalda's tiger had drawn blood: six years earlier, a 10-year-old boy was severely mauled to the neck and head while trying to photograph the animal for a school project.
- Rather than surrender his exotic animals after the child's attack, Buwalda fought a two-year legal battle against a township bylaw, winning a court ruling that declared the ban too broad — a victory that allowed him to keep two lions, two tigers, and a cougar on his property.
- Neighbours who had spent years trying to have the animals removed watched their efforts fail in court, then watched the man who defeated them die in the enclosure he had legally protected.
- No charges were filed — Buwalda had broken no law — and after his death, the tiger was rehomed and his collection disbanded, leaving only the question of what the fight had ever been for.
In January 2010, on a rural Ontario property, a man who had spent years in court defending his right to live alongside lions, tigers, and a cougar met his end inside the very cage he had fought to keep. Norman Buwalda, 66, was killed by his pet tiger — an animal that had already mauled a child six years prior, prompting a legal battle Buwalda ultimately won. His death asks a question that outlasts him: where does the boundary lie between a person's sovereign claim over their own land and the wild, indifferent nature of the creatures they choose to bring inside it?
Norman Buwalda was 66 when he walked into his tiger's enclosure on a January morning in 2010 to feed it. The animal killed him. A family member found his mutilated body; Ontario Provincial Police arrived to find the tiger still pacing its pen on the rural Southwold property, roughly 28 kilometres southwest of London, Ontario.
What gave the death its weight was the road that had led to it. In 2004, a 10-year-old boy had been mauled by one of Buwalda's Siberian tigers — brought out on a chain leash so the child could photograph it for a school project. The attack left the boy with severe injuries to his neck and head. Southwold Township responded by passing a bylaw banning exotic animal ownership on private property.
Buwalda, a wealthy Dutch native and chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association, refused to accept the restriction. He challenged the bylaw in court and, after two years, won — an Ontario Superior Court judge ruling the ban too broad. He was legally entitled to keep his two lions, two tigers, and a cougar. The neighbours who had spent years pushing for their removal saw their efforts come to nothing.
Constable Troy Carlson offered the only official account: Buwalda had gone to feed the tiger, no one witnessed what followed, and the animal killed him. No charges were filed. He had broken no law. Neighbours remembered him differently — one describing him as a bully who was, beneath it, a lonely man; another noting simply that the tiger had done what tigers do, and that the animal bore no fault for it.
After his death, the tiger was rehomed and his collection disbanded. The court victory he had spent two years securing, the right he had fought so hard to preserve — it ended in the cage where he had gone, one last time, to feed an animal he believed he understood.
Norman Buwalda was 66 years old when he entered the cage of his 47-stone tiger to feed it on a January morning in 2010. The animal attacked him. By the time a family member found his body, it was mutilated beyond immediate recognition. The tiger was pacing in its enclosure when Ontario Provincial Police arrived at the property in Southwold, a rural area roughly 28 kilometres southwest of London, Ontario.
What made this death notable—what made it a story that still carries weight—was the path that led to it. Six years earlier, in 2004, a 10-year-old boy had been mauled by one of Buwalda's Siberian tigers. The child had slipped and fallen near the animal, which had been brought out on a heavy chain leash so the boy could photograph it for a school project. The attack left the child with severe injuries to his neck and head. He was hospitalized. The incident prompted Southwold Township to pass a bylaw banning the ownership of exotic animals on private property.
Buwalda, a wealthy Dutch native who served as chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association, did not accept this restriction. He challenged the bylaw in court. For two years, he fought. An Ontario Superior Court judge ruled the bylaw flawed and too broad. Buwalda won. He was legally entitled to keep his animals—two lions, two tigers, and a cougar, all housed in a screened-in outbuilding on his property. The neighbours who had spent nearly half a decade trying to have the exotic animals removed from the rural community saw their efforts fail.
Constable Troy Carlson of the Ontario Provincial Police offered the only official account of what happened on January 10, 2010. "The owner of some exotic animals went out to feed the tiger which was in a cage or large pen and the animal attacked him and killed him," Carlson said. "We don't know what actually took place because no one witnessed it, but the tiger ended up attacking him and killing him." No charges were ever filed. Buwalda had broken no law.
The neighbours who lived near him offered a different kind of testimony. Joanne Does told the Toronto Star that Buwalda had once said he trusted animals more than people, that he felt closer to them. "He appeared like a bully," Does said, "but he was a very sad man, lonely I think." Patricia England, another neighbour, recalled that Buwalda had insisted his animals wouldn't hurt a fly. She disagreed with his choice to keep them. "It's not the animal's fault," she said. "It was just doing what a tiger does."
After Buwalda's death, the tiger that killed him was taken away and rehomed. His collection of exotic animals was disbanded. The legal battle that had consumed two years of his life, the court victory he had secured, the right he had fought so hard to preserve—it all ended in the cage where he had gone to feed an animal he believed he understood.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
He told us once that he trusted animals more than he trusted people. He felt closer to animals than people.— Joanne Does, neighbour
It's not the animal's fault. It was just doing what a tiger does.— Patricia England, neighbour