Caboodle Ranch, Inc., was a self-proclaimed “cat rescue sanctuary” in Madison County, Florida, that boasted that it gave cats “everything they will ever need to live a happy healthy life.” But PETA’s undercover investigation found that the “ranch” was essentially a one-person operation and that the approximately 700 cats at the “no kill” facility lived in filthy, crowded conditions and suffered from chronic neglect.

Based on PETA’s evidence, officials seized Caboodle’s animals and charged its founder and operator, Craig Grant, with felony and misdemeanor cruelty to animals and scheme to defraud. In June 2012, Caboodle’s attempt to regain these animals was denied, and a judge barred Caboodle from having any animals. In May 2013, Grant admitted his guilt in response to felony and misdemeanor cruelty-to-animals charges.

PETA’s investigation found that the “ranch” consisted of dilapidated, moldy, trailers reeking of ammonia, crowded kennels, and impossible-to-sanitize wooden sheds and that Grant denied cats effective veterinary care for rampant upper-respiratory infections and other ailments, sometimes with fatal consequences. PETA’s investigator routinely brought to Grant’s attention the suffering of individual cats at the facility, but requests for veterinary care and offers to rush suffering and even dying cats to a veterinarian for emergency medical attention were often dismissed. Grant left cats like Lilly, whose iris protruded through a ruptured cornea, to suffer month after month until she permanently lost sight in that injured eye. Grant put Lilly in his so-called “sick ward” trailer, where for weeks her condition continued to deteriorate and where she became more and more depressed, withdrawn, and ill—until she finally died on January 31, 2012. Her prolonged suffering is the basis of a felony cruelty-to-animals charge that Grant faces.

Click to read more about Lilly’s sad story

By PETA’s Investigator

I loved Lilly very much, but I could not save her.

I don’t know who left Lilly at Caboodle Ranch, but I am sure that they’d never have done so had they known what she would go through. Lilly was just one of the hundreds of cats kept at Caboodle—but I will never forget her. I first noticed her on September 17, 2011. On October 6, I named her. Less than four months later, she was dead.

Lilly had a quiet, very delicate way about her. She was a gorgeous black-and-white cat with medium-length hair; a sweet, shy disposition; and distinctive markings, including a patch of soft black fur stretching from her forehead to her little nose. She was perfect.

For more than four months, I tried my best to get Lilly the help that I knew she desperately needed. I saw Lilly grow sicker and sicker from September 17 on, until she couldn’t even lift her head up on January 30, 2012—her last day on Earth. By that time, she was cold to the touch, unresponsive, and very weak. When I picked her up, she felt lifeless.

Over the months, despite my repeated efforts, I could not get Caboodle’s founder and operator, Craig Grant, to take Lilly to the veterinarian—even though I pointed out her obviously dire condition frequently and repeatedly. Craig consistently refused my suggestions—and pleas—that Lilly be taken to the vet, even when her eye was bloody, swollen, encrusted with hair and goo, and practically falling out of her head. Finally, her cornea ruptured. Yet, Craig turned down my offers to drive her to a veterinarian for treatment. He turned down my request to take her home so that I could try to nurse her back to health. He referred to Lilly as “the cat with the bad eye.”

You may be thinking, “Why didn’t you just take Lilly?” I wish I could have, but that would have meant not just breaking the law but also endangering the investigation and the welfare of hundreds of cats, including others just as sick as Lilly.

Lilly spent the last 11 weeks of her miserable life in Caboodle’s so-called “sick ward” trailer, where I saw her grow more depressed and withdrawn by the day. Lilly is part of a criminal case against Craig Grant now, so I won’t go into too much detail on the sad deterioration of her health. Suffice it to say that she suffered terribly and unnecessarily. But she was not the only one: So many cats were left to struggle with treatable “colds” that developed into serious, sometimes fatal, illnesses. They sneezed, they coughed, they drooled, they gasped for air, bloody mucus came out of their noses … and worse.

By the time you read this, the cats will have been rescued and given the veterinary care that they so desperately need. That’s wonderful news for the survivors. But for Lilly, the seizure of the animals came too late. I spent a lot of time observing and getting to know Lilly. Throughout the time that I knew her, her life consisted of absolutely nothing but pain and misery. She knew no joy. I was hoping that Lilly would be able to hold on just a little bit longer and that I would be able to get her out and get her emergency care. My biggest regret is that I was unable to do that for her. I never got to meet the cat who she was before she became sick.

I may not have been able to save Lilly’s life, but I hope that people will be able to learn from her death and her story so that she will not have died in vain. I don’t know where Lilly came from, and I may never know, but throughout my time at Caboodle I saw hundreds of cats left at the facility. They were left mostly by people who had good intentions but felt that they had nowhere else to turn. I spoke with many of these people and their stories were similar: Their cat was urinating in the house; they were moving and couldn’t take their cat with them; the cat was a stray and they didn’t have “the heart” to take them to an animal shelter.

Whatever the case was with Lilly, she, along with hundreds of others, ended up at Caboodle. I want Lilly to be remembered always. I want people who have cats to go pet and play with them, and I want people who don’t have cats to consider adopting one or two if they’re prepared to provide a loving forever home. I want people to realize that animals, like people, aren’t perfect, and they shouldn’t be tossed aside because of that. I don’t want there ever to be another story like Lilly’s.

Please be sure that only trustworthy people are entrusted with the care of your companion animals. Things are not always as they seem. Do your research, investigate, and always put your animals’ best interests first.

And most importantly, please don’t forget Lilly.

Several cats other than Lilly, including a kitten who was born to a cat Grant had failed to spay, died without veterinary care during the course of PETA’s investigation. Some, including the kitten, died of seemingly treatable conditions. PETA’s investigation also found that Grant allowed cats who were sick with fatal feline immunodeficiency virus (FIV) and leukemia to roam freely and come into contact with cats not known to have either disease; that cats were not effectively confined to the facility and were easily able to escape its perimeter fence; that almost every day, Grant roughly rubbed cats’ faces, eyes, and noses with Clorox wipes to “clean” them; that Grant intentionally hid and instructed others to hide from visitors cats who were clearly in need of medical care that he was not providing; that ailing cats at Caboodle had gnats and other insects swarming around them and were forced to endure disgusting living areas covered with vomit, trash, and waste and infested with roaches and maggots; and that Grant failed to get some cats sterilized and allowed cats to breed. Dead cats’ remains were left to rot on the facility’s grounds—PETA’s investigator found skulls, spines, and other cat bones in the woods on Grant’s property.

The cats’ neglect had nothing to do with a lack of funds. Caboodle Ranch was a well-funded operation; people were charged $150 or more when Grant obtained each cat. When our investigator offered to pay for veterinary care for one cat in clear distress, Grant appeared insulted and said, “I have money.”

Update: A seizure operation—like that at Caboodle—takes time and resources to plan and execute, which was beyond PETA’s control. PETA met with and shared its evidence with officials months before the investigation was publicly released. Unfortunately, these cats have needed help for more than five months, but officials did not feel that they had the evidence to act before PETA’s investigation. The reality of the judicial system is such that a pattern of systemic neglect has to be established, and that can take some time.

If you live near Madison County, Florida, and are interested in helping the cats seized from Caboodle, please stay tuned to media reports on whether custody of the cats is awarded to the county. If it is, please consider applying to adopt a cat or two. Also, please remember never to leave an unwanted companion animal anywhere without thoroughly investigating the facility first. Learn more about animal shelters and how to find a reputable shelter—or a new home—here.

You can help make more critical undercover investigations like this one possible through your support of PETA’s Investigations & Rescue Fund. Click here to learn more about this lifesaving fund.

Caboodle Cat Ranch Expose: No-Kill Hell