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Here is an update
on the Boudeaux family of
felons. Tuesday around 4pm a
plea was sent to the public
regarding Floyd and Guy
Boudreaux, who were busted in
March 11, 2005 for felony counts
of dogfighting and animal
cruelty. The Lafayette,
Louisiana District Attorney's
office has allowed them to walk
and had not yet filed charges 10
months after the bust (hmmm).
However, within 24 hours of
Tuesday's email the DA announced
they would be
prosecuting. Your calls and
letters made the difference!
Here is an excerpt from an email
Laura Maloney, Executive
Director of LASPCA sent on
Wednesday:
"Floyd Boudreaux is being
charged with 48 counts of dog
fighting, two counts possession
of schedule III drugs. Guy
Boudreaux is being charged as
principal to 48 counts of dog
fighting. No trial date has been
set. Please extend my deepest
gratitude for all of those who
wrote or called the DA. Their
voice made the difference!!!!
Thanks so much for your help!!
".
Another excerpt:
"he is also a champion
cockfighter, but sadly,
cockfighting is legal in LA. We
were unable to seize his birds.
We're going to shoot for
outlawing cockfighting this
upcoming legislative session"
Below is more
background material on the case.
Again, thanks for your
participation and in making the
difference. We will keep you
updated on this case so you may
continue to help the state of LA
see this case through to
prosecution and make sure that
they really do go to trial.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Please note: The state has not
pressed to force closure of his
dog breeding business and bar he
or his son from owning, breeding
or have anything to do with
animals. His business is still
advertising and shipping out
dogs. Though it is difficult to
close him down without a
conviction perhaps a civil cease
and desist order can be
obtained. The DA has not done
anything about the business.
Kennels still
offering Boudreuax bloodline
dogs "all of course are not sold
for illegal purposes". Form your
own opinion. Please check out
these links:
http://flashfirekennel.com/photo2.html
<http://flashfirekennel.com/photo2.html>
http://www.tightlinekennels.com/TightlinePedigree.htm
<http://www.tightlinekennels.com/TightlinePedigree.htm>
http://www.chopperdanskennels.com/reunion.html
<http://www.chopperdanskennels.com/reunion.html>
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
FIGHTING BACK
Dogfighting has been a tradition
in Louisiana for generations.
But with a series of
high-profile raids, the state
hopes to take a bite out of the
outlawed blood sport.
Sunday, May 29, 2005 (this was
months after the bust)
Times-Picayune
<file:///t-p/>
By Michael Perlstein Staff
writer
LAFAYETTE -- It was one of the
biggest police raids in the
history of Lafayette Parish,
maybe in all of Acadiana.
The caravan of vehicles creeping
down Louisiana 89 on March 11
included a SWAT team, the State
Police gambling unit and members
of local Troop I, U.S. Customs
officials, the Louisiana Society
for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals, Humane Society dog
handlers from as far away as
Florida and Montana, and at the
front, a large refrigerated
truck filled with dog cages and
driven by Kathryn Destreza.
Destreza, the SPCA's director of
animal services, calmly went
over the game plan in her head,
but as they closed in on the
kennel operated by Floyd
Boudreaux and his son, Guy, her
adrenaline spiked. Not because
of the raid -- she'd been on
plenty of big raids -- but at
the thought of seeing, in the
flesh, a pit bull terrier from
the world-renowned Boudreaux
bloodline.
In dogfighting, a sport that
spans the globe, the pedigree is
revered for producing the
world's most vicious fighting
dogs. Long-dead legends include
Blind Billy, Maverick and
Napoleon. And among the living,
Reno, the "grand champion"
fighter and aging stud, was
among the dogs Destreza expected
to confront face-to-muzzle.
"Just the thought of seeing a
Boudreaux-bred dog on Boudreaux
property was starting to blow me
away," Destreza said. "Floyd is
sort of like the Adam in the
dogfighting world. He's the
standard everybody else judges
their dogs by."
Just outside the Lafayette city
limits, where the highway meets
La Neuville Road, the line of
trucks and police cruisers
pulled up to the Boudreaux
property in Broussard about 8
a.m. Beyond the family's fleet
of rusted cars and pickups was
the weather-beaten wood-frame
house where Floyd Boudreaux
lives with his wife, and behind
that the double-wide trailer
where Guy Boudreaux lives with
his 10-year-old son. Old tires,
rusted pipes, piles of lumber
and rolls of chain-link fence
surrounded a tar-paper workshop
and rickety rooster shack.
But in the field behind the main
compound was a sight that filled
Destreza with awe and disgust:
27 pit bulls tethered beside
small doghouses, many of the
dogs wallowing in muddy pools of
standing rainwater. Each
doghouse was surrounded by a
neat circular rut, the deep
grooves marking the boundaries
of the dogs' world as the
animals strained their 6-foot
chains. Reno was spotted right
away by Destreza and her staff.
Surprisingly, he appeared to get
no special treatment, just one
dog chained among rows of other
dogs. Another 30 pit bulls,
including puppies, were
scattered in pens and doghouses.
Despite their primitive living
conditions, the dogs -- all bred
from the prized Boudreaux
bloodline -- were hearty,
healthy and, together, valued at
more than $300,000, SPCA
Director Laura Maloney said.
Reno alone was worth at least
$25,000, Maloney said.
The dogs, along with items
ranging from anabolic steroids
to exercise treadmills to
computer records and videos,
were evidence enough to book
Floyd Boudreaux, 70, and Guy
Boudreaux, 40, with animal
cruelty, illegal possession of
steroids, possession of a
sawed-off shotgun and 64 counts
of dogfighting.
Within the secretive and
tightknit community of
dogfighters, the raid has become
the most talked-about event in
years. But to State Police, the
Boudreaux bust represents just
one blow in a very recent, very
active crackdown. A month after
the Lafayette raid, the State
Police's Troop I and gambling
division stormed an organized
fight in Sunset, where they
arrested 17 adults and two
juveniles and found two severely
mauled pit bulls "locked up" on
each other in the middle of a
bloody pit.
And in back-to-back raids last
week, the State Police and SPCA
took out an alleged Church Point
dogfighter and his kennel of 43
pit bulls Wednesday, before
storming a Franklinton compound
known as Dirty South Kennels on
Thursday, arresting owner Darren
Williams and seizing 134 pit
bulls. The value of one of the
dogs, an alleged grand champion
named Coachise, was pegged by
the SPCA at $60,000.
In a guard room next to
Williams' main kennel, police
found pictures of other
"champion" pit bulls, animal
medicines, leashes, belts, a
refrigerator full of Budweiser
beer and, lying in the middle of
a bed, a framed photograph of
Williams and Floyd Boudreaux.
Deep in the culture
Louisiana has long been one of
the country's most fertile
arenas for dogfighting, mainly
because the activity flourished
virtually unchecked for decades,
authorities said.
Before it was made illegal in
1982, dogfighting was a fixture
of Cajun country alongside
cock-fighting, the controversial
blood sport that that has been
outlawed in every state except
Louisiana and New Mexico. Floyd
Boudreaux grew up in an era when
pit bull fights were a Saturday
draw at rural nightclubs and
bush tracks that also offered
family fare such as barbecues,
fais-do-dos, sulky racing and
drag racing.
Cockfighting, with its spectacle
of death, was like a sideshow at
these throw-downs, held in a
barn or closed pit away from
those with no stomach for it.
Dog matches, far bloodier and
more protracted than the rooster
fights, were staged even deeper
in the shadows. Several
Lafayette old-timers said the
fights were public knowledge but
largely unadvertised, held at
whispered locations "in the
woods" or "down the road," and
usually late at night.
"Been around since I was a
baby," said Virginia Lee,
director of Lafayette Animal
Control. "Just like
cockfighting, it's become part
of the culture. They always kept
it away from the kids because it
was so bloody, but somehow it
became accepted around here."
Floyd Boudreaux, in a coffee
table book of photographs by
Marc Joseph called "American
Pitbull," described growing up
as the son of a dogman: "I've
been working with the breed over
half a century. I also have
chickens. My dad had them before
I did, and then I had them
before I went to grade school.
My son, too. It's always been a
family affair."
In the weeks after the raid,
some folks were heard to wonder
why police were hassling a
kindly old dog-lover and his
family, while others questioned
why authorities took so long to
eliminate a kennel for killer
dogs that operated in plain
sight for decades.
"He should have been arrested a
long time ago. Everybody knew
about him," said Randy Hebert,
who lives near the Boudreaux
compound. "I don't know how he
was able to operate so wide-open
for so long."
But Conrad Miller, a pit-bull
owner and friend of the
Boudreaux family, said the
family dog operation is
misunderstood.
"All pits are fighting dogs.
That's what they do," he said.
"Even though Floyd goes back to
the fighting days, I don't think
he's fought his dogs for years.
He always told me, 'That's a
thing of the past.' "
Miller acknowledged that
Boudreaux is still considered
royalty among dogfighters, but
he said that reputation is based
on Boudreaux's long-ago triumphs
in the pit. "When he goes to
(dog) shows," he said,
"everybody wants his autograph
or they want to take his
picture. He's a hero in that
crowd. But he's really just a
sweet little old man."
For Floyd and Guy Boudreaux,
even harder to take than the
raid and criminal charges,
Miller and others said, was the
euthanasia of 57 prized pit
bulls. The destruction of the
animals all but eliminated the
family's two most sought-after
bloodlines, the generations-old
"Boudreaux" line and the more
recent branch of fighters known
as "Eli." According to
authorities, dogmen from as far
away as Mexico and Japan came to
the Boudreaux kennel to purchase
a puppy born from that storied
stock, sometimes paying as much
as $10,000 for the pick of a
litter.
"People came from all over the
world to buy his dogs," said
Jeff Dorson of the Humane
Society of New Orleans and one
of the state's most vocal
dogfighting opponents.
"Sometimes they came just to pay
homage, get his autograph, have
their picture taken with him. He
is the top of the pyramid as far
as notoriety in dogfighting
circles."
Maloney said the animals were
put to sleep at the New Orleans
shelter a few days after the
raid. She said the dogs were
contraband under the law and
that there was no safe way to
house that many dogs bred and
trained to kill.
The euthanasia operation took
nearly 48 hours and brought most
of the staff to tears.
"I have a pit bull myself. It's
my favorite breed," Maloney
said. "But there was no way to
rehabilitate a dog that has been
so selectively bred for
aggression toward other animals.
If they were ever to get around
another animal, they'd turn in a
millisecond. It was shocking to
us how vicious they'd become
when they saw another animal."
The Boudreaux case was so
sensitive that none of the local
police agencies or animal
shelters in the Lafayette area
was told about the impending
raid. But it didn't take long
for word to get around after it
went down.
Lee, the local animal control
director, said her shelter got a
flood of calls from local pit
bull owners devastated by the
news. The raid also led to a
rash of abandoned pit bulls in
the area, dogs presumably cut
loose by dogfighters who didn't
want to risk getting caught.
Illegal activity denied
Floyd and Guy Boudreaux, through
their attorneys, deny breeding
or training their pit bulls for
fighting, activities that are
illegal under the state's
dogfighting statute. Daniel
Stanford, who represented Guy
Boudreaux at the time of the
raid, said, "These dogs were
used for hunting, shows,
competitive weight pulling and
as pets."
The steroids, the attorneys
said, were used for the dozens
of roosters the family raised
for cockfighting.
Neither Boudreaux has offered
public comment since the bust.
In response to a recent
interview request from The
Times-Picayune, Guy Boudreaux
referred all legal questions to
attorney Jason Robideaux, who
did not respond to several
telephone calls.
Boudreaux, however, did offer a
parting comment during a visit
from a reporter: "My dad hasn't
fought dogs in 30 years. And he
gave away more dogs than he ever
sold. Look how we live. Where's
all the money?"
Boudreaux said he and his father
are eager to tell their side of
the story but have been
instructed by attorneys to save
it for court.
The father and son face a
maximum of 10 years in prison
for each felony dogfighting
count. But to Louisiana State
Police and animal control
officers, the raid's greater
significance is that it marked
the biggest blow to dogfighting
in Louisiana since the state
banned it in 1982 and has
rattled dogfighting circles
around the world.
Within days of the Lafayette
raid, Internet sites affiliated
with animal-rescue groups were
flooded with messages describing
the elder Boudreaux as
dogfighting's "don," "godfather"
and "kingpin."
Pro-pit-bull sites -- posted by
groups that operate with a high
degree of anonymity, secrecy and
perfunctory disclaimers against
fighting -- cast him in heroic
terms. One Web site, launched as
the "Help Floyd Foundation,"
solicited money for a legal
defense fund, referring to
Boudreaux as a "famous and
honored long-term breeder."
People pledged donations from as
far away as England and the
Czech Republic.
The SPCA received a flood of
hostile phone messages and hate
mail, including a "Fire Laura
Maloney" e-mail petition signed
by more than 600 people and an
unnerving photo with Maloney's
name printed on a headstone.
Detective David Hunt of Franklin
County, Ohio, and one of the
country's premier dogfighting
enforcers, said he started
hearing about the Boudreaux raid
from informants hours before the
story hit the news.
"The fact that his arrest spread
so quickly through underground
channels shows just how big he
was," Hunt said. "It's a huge,
huge arrest that will affect
dogfighting nationally for some
time."
State Trooper Willie Williams
Jr. is with Troop I in
Lafayette. He was among the
local troopers who were ordered
to arrive early on the morning
of the raid without any other
hint of the operation. Only
after the raid, while surfing
the Internet, did Williams
appreciate the shock waves made
by the bust, he said.
"This isn't just a state case or
a national case; it's
international," Williams said.
"Mr. Boudreaux is a celebrity in
that world. He was the man, the
king. . . . Hopefully, this is
going to send a message to other
people who are involved: 'If the
king can be removed, maybe that
should be a clue.' The best
thing we can have is voluntary
compliance."
Heightened enforcement
Even as dogfighting emerged as a
big-money gambling outlet
throughout the 1990s,
enforcement remained a low
priority. Good intelligence was
notoriously difficult to develop
in the shadowy dogfighting
world, police say, and the state
dogfighting statute made
prosecution difficult unless
police disrupted a fight in
progress, an extremely rare
occurrence.
But in 2001, animal-rights
activists successfully lobbied
to change the law, making it a
felony to breed, train or own a
dog for fighting purpose. Police
could now make cases by seizing
evidence such as exercise
treadmills, heavy chains,
steroids, fighting manuals, and
underground magazines, videos
and, in some cases, computer
files.
The change has been exploited
beyond Lafayette, including in
New Orleans. "I would say that
over the last three years, by
working with the SPCA and Jeff
Dorson, dogfighting has become a
top concern for the Police
Department," New Orleans police
spokesman Capt. Marlon Defillo
said.
One of the most convincing
arguments presented by the
animal-rights community, Defillo
said, was the "correlation
between dogfighting and other
crimes such as narcotics,
gambling and crimes of violence.
Individuals who wage big bets on
dogfighting often find
themselves in other illegal
activities and violent
situations."
For example, in Wednesday's
bust, alleged Church Point
dogfighter Pedro Mendez Ramos
was booked along with 14 others
in connection with a multi-state
cocaine and marijuana
trafficking ring.
Dogfighting in New Orleans
Also emerging on law enforcement
radar is an exploding, and
lucrative, dogfighting scene in
and around New Orleans, where
$50,000, hours-long death
matches have become a hard-edged
undercurrent of hip-hop culture,
often entangled with drugs and
guns, according to animal-rights
activists.
As a dogfighting opponent Dorson
didn't limit himself to nudging
the police into action. For two
years, he went undercover,
posing as a dog-food
distributor, to infiltrate the
notoriously clandestine clique
of dogfighters. By giving away
truckloads of kibble, Dorson
soon had breeders and trainers
paging him around the clock and
giving him a wide-open window
into their world.
In addition to providing names
and locations, Dorson got the
attention of New Orleans police
with photographs documenting the
pastime's brutality.
"Looking at the photographs of
dogs that have been killed or
maimed in vicious dogfights has
drawn a lot of sympathy from our
officers," Defillo said.
A few local cases have revealed
what local police are up
against. In February 2003, New
Orleans police got a tip and
raided a fight scene on a dirt
road in eastern New Orleans.
Spectators scattered in all
directions, leaving behind dog
cages, cell phones, $6,000 in
cash and a bloody dogfighting
ring. Police booked 16 people as
spectators, a misdemeanor, but
the district attorney's office
decided not to pursue charges,
citing weak evidence.
One of the people arrested
during that raid, Cleveland
Harris Jr., was booked again
Feb. 28 on 12 counts of
dogfighting and animal cruelty
for allegedly maintaining a
kennel of "game" pit bulls at
his home. He is awaiting trial.
In another New Orleans case,
Rudolph Bolds, 58, and his son
Rudolph Bolds Jr., 34, were
charged with dogfighting and
cruelty to animals for allegedly
maintaining a kennel of pit
bulls bearing scars from
fighting. At a May 16 trial, a
jury acquitted the elder Bolds
but could not arrive at a
verdict on his son, forcing
prosecutors to decide whether to
hold a second trial.
Amid the disappointment, police
and animal workers did not fail
to note that the attorneys
representing the Bolds, Robert
Glass and Ron Rakosky, are among
the highest-paid criminal
defense lawyers in the state.
Starting at the top
For years, Dorson had compiled
evidence on the Boudreaux
operation in a file labeled
"Operation Dog Bite." He finally
got the State Police interested
this year when he made a direct
appeal to their chief, Col.
Henry Whitehorn.
Meanwhile, the SPCA, operating
independently, had been
gathering tips from within the
pit bull breeding and training
community. The agency compiled
information about the major
players, the big money fights,
the puppy sales from the most
coveted litters of game pit
bulls.
State Police Capt. Joseph
Lentini, commander of casino
gambling, credited Maloney and
the SPCA with getting his
troopers up to speed on
dogfighting in a hurry.
Eventually, the background from
the animal groups and fresh
information developed
independently by State Police
investigators all came together
in a red-hot tip on how to nail
the biggest name in the
business: Floyd Boudreaux.
Lentini would reveal only that
the most crucial piece of
information in the Boudreaux
case came from New Orleans.
"When I got the call from an
agent, it was very exciting. We
knew we had something big
there," Lentini said.
Since the arrest of Floyd and
Guy Boudreaux, Lentini said, the
State Police have been flooded
with tips and information:
Information about other large
kennels selling fighting dogs.
Information about fights with
purses approaching $80,000.
Dog-theft rings that steal
family pets to be used as "bait"
in the training of pit-bull
fighters.
"We're steadily getting new
information coming in, and we're
still working a lot of active
cases," Lentini said. "My people
are really becoming experts in
this. We're starting to feel
pretty confident."
As Lentini's troopers dig deeper
into the world of dogfighting,
the enormity of the case against
Floyd Boudreaux and his son is
becoming clear. In many ways,
the agency took the opposite
path of most major police
investigations, which generally
start at the bottom and work
their way up the ladder as minor
players decide to cooperate. In
the Boudreaux case, the State
Police started at the top.
But, like dogfighters who
shuddered at the news, the local
SPCA and other animal groups
immediately knew the
history-making dimensions of the
Boudreaux bust.
Destreza, a tough and seasoned
animal handler who wears a
uniform and carries a badge,
said she cried more than once
during the long two days in
which the Boudreaux dogs were
photographed and charted for
scars and calluses before
being led, one by one, to Room
9-5, the SPCA's euthanasia room.
Despite their rippling muscles,
many of the dogs were calm but
scared, and even friendly --
just like most breeds, Destreza
said. The dog handlers gave
many of them pet names, even as
they prepared them for death.
"Seeing those big dopey looks
from those big brown eyes,"
Destreza said, "I cried, yes,
but I made sure not to cry in
front of my staff. You can't
help but bond with the animals.
Even as we were loading them
onto the truck, you couldn't
help but think about what was
eventually going to happen to
them. Trying to breed another
line like Boudreaux would be
like trying to re-create Elvis.
You can make some gold records,
but there's only one Elvis."
Michael Perlstein can be reached
at:
mperlstein@timespicayune.com
(@timespicayune.com) or:
504- 826- 3316.
Local TV station
link to the story (right after
the bust)
http://www.klfy.com/Global/story.asp?S=3076363
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