Over a decade in Los Angeles, sixty-seven dogs have been shot by police officers — forty-five of them pit bulls — leaving behind not only grieving families but children who must learn to reconcile fear with the institutions meant to protect them. The death of a Golden Saint Bernard Doodle in Canoga Park in June, and the resurfacing of a 2018 shooting witnessed by a seven-year-old girl in her own home, have prompted Mayor Karen Bass and the LAPD to examine whether their use-of-force doctrine allows enough room for patience. At its core, this is a story about the space between a split-second dec
LAPD dog shootings surge in 2026, sparking review of police tactics
It's not that I don't trust them, but I'm still afraid
So we're looking at four dog shootings in 2026 alone, but only one in 2024. What changed?
The investigation doesn't explain the spike. The LAPD hasn't said why the numbers went up so suddenly. That's actually one of the gaps in what we know.
Right—and we should be careful here. Four incidents in ten months is the data we have. We don't know if it's a real trend or a statistical blip. One year of low numbers doesn't establish a baseline.
Fair. But 67 dogs shot over ten years—that's the bigger number. Is that a lot?
There's no national standard to compare it to. The LAPD is the only department being investigated here. We know 45 of those 67 were pit bulls, which suggests breed might be a factor in how officers assess threat.
But we don't have data on how many dogs officers encounter that aren't shot. We don't know the denominator. So we can't actually calculate a rate of shooting versus encounters.
What about the cases themselves? Are there patterns in when shootings happen?
The Jameson case is instructive. Officers responded to a call about screaming. The homeowner let them in. The dog barked and moved toward an officer. That's the moment the officer decided to shoot.
And we have body camera footage of that one, which is rare. Most of these cases don't have that level of documentation. So Jameson's case might not be representative of the others.
What does the LAPD say about their decision-making?
They declined to be interviewed. They said they're reviewing tactics and training, but they haven't changed the actual directive yet.
Which means we don't know what they think went wrong, or if they think anything went wrong. The review is happening in private.
And the girl, Aguilar—she's been in therapy for years over this?
Yes. She witnessed her family's dog shot in their own home when she was seven. She's now afraid of police despite being raised to respect them. That's a real consequence that extends beyond the dog.
Though we should note: we only have her account of what happened in that 2018 incident. There's no body camera footage from that case, no independent verification of how the officers behaved or what they said.
So what happens next?
Mayor Bass ordered a review. The LAPD is reviewing. But no formal policy changes yet. That's what we're waiting to see.
The Pulse
- A two-year-old family dog named Jameson was fatally shot by an LAPD officer as he barked and moved toward them — body camera footage captured the moment, and it reignited a city's unresolved grief.
- A 2018 incident in which officers shot a pit bull named Kush in front of a seven-year-old girl during a warrantless search of an uninvolved family's home has resurfaced, revealing how deep and lasting the damage of such moments can be.
- Data spanning ten years shows 67 LAPD dog shootings, with a troubling uptick in 2026 after years of decline — suggesting that without structural change, progress is fragile.
- The LAPD has declined interviews and issued only a statement promising a 'comprehensive review,' while its 2023 Dog Encounters Directive remains formally unchanged.
- Mayor Karen Bass has ordered an independent review of deadly force in dog encounters, and advocates argue that a single quality — patience — could have prevented both Kush's shooting and Jameson's death.
Over a decade in Los Angeles, sixty-seven dogs have been shot by police officers — forty-five of them pit bulls — leaving behind not only grieving families but children who must learn to reconcile fear with the institutions meant to protect them. The death of a Golden Saint Bernard Doodle in Canoga Park in June, and the resurfacing of a 2018 shooting witnessed by a seven-year-old girl in her own home, have prompted Mayor Karen Bass and the LAPD to examine whether their use-of-force doctrine allows enough room for patience. At its core, this is a story about the space between a split-second decision and the long aftermath that follows — for animals, for families, and for a child's relationship with authority.
In June, Los Angeles police responded to a disturbance call in Canoga Park during NBA Championship celebrations. When the homeowner opened her door, her two-year-old Golden Saint Bernard Doodle, Jameson, walked out barking — and was shot dead by an officer as he approached. The footage exists. The grief that followed was immediate.
For Neveah Aguilar and her mother Norma Lopez, Jameson's death was not an abstraction. In 2018, LAPD officers entered their Hollywood apartment while investigating a shooting their family had no part in. During the search, an officer shot their pit bull Kush in the jaw. Neveah was seven years old and standing just feet away. Officers told Lopez her dog was dead — but Kush had crawled into the bathroom and climbed into the tub. He survived, but was never the same. Neither was Neveah. Now a high school freshman, she has spent years in therapy. Photos of Kush still hang on her bedroom wall. When asked about police, she said: 'It's not that I don't trust them, but I'm still afraid of them.'
Lopez sued the LAPD for unlawful entry and excessive force, eventually reaching a confidential settlement. But she and her daughter wanted their story to matter beyond their own loss — to be the reason something like Jameson's death didn't happen again.
A CBS California investigation found that the LAPD shot 67 dogs over the past decade, 45 of them pit bulls. Shootings peaked at 19 incidents in 2016 and fell to just one in 2024 — but 2026 has already seen four, with three deaths. The department declined to be interviewed, offering only a statement about a 'comprehensive review' of tactics and training. Its 2023 Dog Encounters Directive has not been formally revised.
The attorney who represented Lopez put it plainly: a little more patience, in either case, and the dog would not have been shot. Whether the LAPD's review translates into policy — and whether that policy creates the margin for that patience — remains the open question.
In June, Los Angeles police responded to a call about a woman screaming during the NBA Championship celebration in Canoga Park. When officers knocked on the door, the homeowner let them in. Her dog, Jameson, a two-year-old Golden Saint Bernard Doodle, walked out barking. Body-worn camera footage shows what happened next: as Jameson moved toward one of the officers, the officer opened fire. The dog died.
For Neveah Aguilar and her mother Norma Lopez, the news of Jameson's death reopened a wound nearly eight years old. In 2018, LAPD officers had entered their Hollywood apartment during an investigation into a shooting that occurred outside their building—a shooting their family had nothing to do with. Lopez said officers detained her and her former partner, then searched the home. During that search, an officer shot Kush, their pit bull, in the jaw. Aguilar was seven years old and standing just a few feet away when it happened.
Lopez alleged that officers told her Kush was dead. That wasn't true. The dog had crawled into the bathroom and climbed into the tub. Four hours later, animal control removed Kush from the apartment. Lopez said the dog was left to bleed out in the truck. Kush survived for another couple of years, but he was never the same—no longer the energetic, playful animal he had been. Aguilar, now a high school freshman, has spent years in therapy processing what she witnessed. Photos of Kush still hang on her bedroom wall, along with a paw print by her bed. When asked about her relationship with police, she said: "It's not that I don't trust them, but I'm still afraid of them, and I feel like they still scare me."
Lopez sued the LAPD, claiming unlawful entry and excessive force. Her attorney, Theida Salazar, said that when he worked on the case in 2018, police shootings of dogs were routine. The two sides eventually settled, though the terms remain confidential. But Lopez and Aguilar wanted their story to mean something beyond their own loss. They wanted it to prevent what happened to Jameson.
A CBS California investigation examined the LAPD's use-of-force reports over the past decade and found a troubling pattern. In 2016, officers shot at dogs in 19 separate incidents, killing 12 of them. In 2015, there were 11 shootings, eight fatal. The numbers declined over time—just one shooting in 2024. But in 2026, the trend reversed. Four incidents have occurred so far this year, resulting in three deaths. Over the entire ten-year period, the LAPD shot 67 dogs. Forty-five of them were pit bulls.
When asked for comment, the LAPD declined an interview. A department spokesperson issued a statement saying the agency was "conducting a comprehensive review of tactics, training, and best practices." The department has not yet made formal changes to its "Dog Encounters" Directive, which was adopted in 2023. Following Jameson's death, Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass ordered a separate review of how officers use deadly force during dog encounters.
Salazar, who represented Lopez and Aguilar, offered a simple observation about both cases: "If just a little more patience had been exercised, the dog would not have been shot, and I believe in the same instance in Canoga Park." The question now is whether the LAPD's review will result in policies that give officers—and the animals they encounter—that margin of patience.
Notable Quotes
If just a little more patience had been exercised, the dog would not have been shot, and I believe in the same instance in Canoga Park.— Theida Salazar, attorney for Neveah Aguilar and Norma Lopez
At this time, the Department is conducting a comprehensive review of tactics, training, and best practices.— LAPD spokesperson