In January 2010, Norman Buwalda — a man who had spent two years winning a Supreme Court battle for the right to keep tigers on his Ontario property — was killed by one of those tigers at the age of 66. His story sits at the uncomfortable intersection of personal conviction and public consequence, a reminder that legal victories do not always confer safety, and that the boundaries we draw around individual freedom carry real human weight. A child had already been mauled six years earlier; neighbors had pleaded for years; and yet the law, having been tested and upheld, stood aside.
Tiger owner killed by beast he fought courts to keep
It's not the animal's fault. It was just doing what a tiger does.
So he actually won in the Supreme Court? He fought this all the way up?
Yes. The township passed the bylaw after the 2004 attack on the child, and Buwalda challenged it. An Ontario Superior Court judge ruled the bylaw was too broad, and then the Supreme Court of Canada upheld that. He had the legal right to keep the animals.
But he was never charged for the 2004 attack? Even though a child was mauled on his property?
Correct. Because he was legally entitled to own the animals at that time. The attack happened before the bylaw was passed.
And the neighbors—did they know what was going to happen? Did they sense danger?
They spent years trying to get the animals removed. They failed. One neighbor said Buwalda told her he trusted animals more than people. Another said he claimed the animals were harmless.
So we don't actually know what triggered the attack in 2010. No one saw it happen.
Right. Police said he went out to feed the tiger, the tiger attacked him, and that's what they know. A family member found him afterward.
What happened to the tiger?
It was taken away and rehomed. The whole collection was disbanded after his death.
The irony is pretty stark—he won the legal right to keep them, and then one of them killed him.
Yes. And the neighbors were right all along, in a sense, but not because the animals were inherently evil. Just because they're tigers.
Der Puls
- A 66-year-old man who had fought all the way to Canada's Supreme Court to keep his exotic animals entered a tiger's cage to feed it — and never walked out.
- Six years before his death, a 10-year-old boy had been severely mauled by one of Buwalda's Siberian tigers, sparking a township ban that Buwalda then spent two years dismantling in court.
- Neighbors had spent nearly a decade raising alarms about the lions, tigers, and cougar living in a screened outbuilding next door — every effort to have the animals removed had failed.
- The legal framework that protected Buwalda's right to own dangerous animals offered no protection against those animals themselves, exposing the gap between what the law permits and what safety requires.
- After his death, the tiger was rehomed and his collection disbanded — the resolution that neighbors had long sought arriving only after the collector himself became the final casualty.
In January 2010, Norman Buwalda — a man who had spent two years winning a Supreme Court battle for the right to keep tigers on his Ontario property — was killed by one of those tigers at the age of 66. His story sits at the uncomfortable intersection of personal conviction and public consequence, a reminder that legal victories do not always confer safety, and that the boundaries we draw around individual freedom carry real human weight. A child had already been mauled six years earlier; neighbors had pleaded for years; and yet the law, having been tested and upheld, stood aside.
On January 10, 2010, Norman Buwalda — a Dutch-born exotic animal collector and chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association — entered the enclosure of his 47-stone tiger on his Southwold, Ontario property to feed it. He did not survive. A family member discovered his body and secured the animal before police arrived to find the tiger still pacing its compound.
What gave the death its particular weight was the legal history behind it. In 2004, a 10-year-old boy had been mauled by one of Buwalda's Siberian tigers while trying to photograph it for a school project — the child slipped near the animal as it was led out on a chain, and suffered serious injuries to his neck and head. Southwold Township responded by banning exotic animal ownership on private property. Buwalda responded by going to court. He won — first in Ontario Superior Court, then at the Supreme Court of Canada — and returned home to his collection of two lions, two tigers, and a cougar.
Neighbors had spent years trying to have the animals removed and failed at every turn. One recalled that Buwalda had said he trusted animals more than people; another described him as outwardly forceful but inwardly lonely. That same neighbor was careful, after his death, to assign no blame to the tiger: 'It was just doing what a tiger does.'
The animal was rehomed after Buwalda's death and his collection disbanded — the outcome his neighbors had long sought, arriving at the cost no one had wanted to pay. His story remains a stark illustration of the distance that can exist between a legal right and a safe one.
Norman Buwalda, a 66-year-old Dutch-born exotic animal collector from Southwold, Ontario, entered a tiger's cage on January 10, 2010, to feed the animal. He did not come out alive. The tiger—a 47-stone cat he had fought years to keep—attacked and killed him. A family member found his body and managed to lock the animal away before calling for help. When Ontario Provincial Police arrived, the tiger was pacing inside the compound where it had been confined.
What made Buwalda's death a particular kind of tragedy was not simply that he had been killed by an animal in his care, but that he had spent two years in court to ensure he could keep that animal there. 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 while it was being led out on a heavy chain so he could photograph it for a school project. The boy suffered severe injuries to his neck and head and was hospitalized. The attack prompted Southwold Township to pass a bylaw banning the ownership of exotic animals on private property.
Buwalda challenged the ban. He was chairman of the Canadian Exotic Animal Owner's Association, and he believed he had the right to keep what he wanted on his own land. An Ontario Superior Court judge agreed, ruling the bylaw was flawed and too broad. Buwalda appealed further, and the Supreme Court of Canada sided with him. The legal victory meant he could continue housing his collection: two lions, two tigers, and a cougar, all living in a screened-in outbuilding on his property. He was never charged in connection with the 2004 attack on the child, because the law permitted him to own the animals.
Neighbors had spent nearly a decade trying to have the exotic animals removed. Their efforts failed. Joanne Does, who lived nearby, 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," she said, "but he was a very sad man, lonely I think." Another neighbor, Patricia England, recalled that Buwalda had insisted his animals wouldn't hurt anyone. She disagreed with his choice to keep them there, but she was clear about where blame lay: "It's not the animal's fault. It was just doing what a tiger does."
After Buwalda's death, the tiger was removed from the property and rehomed. His collection was disbanded. The case left behind a stark question about the gap between what the law permits and what safety demands—and about a man who had won his legal battle only to lose his life to the very thing he had fought so hard to protect.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
He told us once that he trusted animals more than he trusted people. He felt closer to animals than people.— Joanne Does, neighbor, to the Toronto Star
It's not the animal's fault. It was just doing what a tiger does.— Patricia England, neighbor