Cats and dogs were out when Iraq war veteran Todd Combs considered pets as a way to cope with the crushing impact of his military service.
Like thousands of other former servicemembers, he struggled with depression, PTSD, and suicidal thoughts, but his family’s allergy issues prevented him from bringing a furry companion into their home outside Dayton, Ohio. So Combs turned to chickens.
By last spring, Combs had built up a flock of 18 hens, some of which his kids put on a leash and took for walks down the street.
The chickens required a minimal amount of care and attention, and as they scratched the dirt in his backyard, Combs said he finally understood the kind of peace that many veterans have found in the presence of animals.
“Three years ago, almost four, I spent a week in the Dayton VA psych ward. Got drunk on the anniversary of the deployment weekend,” said Combs, whose convoy in the first days of the 2003 Iraq War got ambushed at checkpoint six outside the city of Nasiriya. “Then I got my pets. I was able to sit out there and talk to them.”
It wouldn’t be long, though, before the Army veteran would face another kind of battle that emotional support animal advocates say is all too common: a fight to save his flock.
In May, the city of Kettering sent Combs a warning that farm animals are not permitted on residential property and to “remove all chickens from the premises.” The chickens could not be considered household pets, city officials deemed. At one point, a police officer dropped by to follow up on an alleged noise complaint related to the hens.
“I told [the police officer]: I’m a combat veteran. These are my support animals. … Who are you to tell me what animal I find solace in?” Combs recalls.
“I’m not selling eggs; I’m not selling feathers for pillows … I just had something to occupy my time.”
Combs isn’t alone in his experience of leaning on pets for emotional support. A 2024 clinical trial funded by the National Institutes of Health found that service dogs, for example, significantly reduced PTSD symptoms for veterans and military members alike. Around the country, a host of programs have been launched to pair veterans with emotional support animals.
But regulations and restrictions placed by landlords can prevent many veterans from turning to animals to help manage their PTSD, despite emotional support animals being covered by the Fair Housing Act.
Emotional support animals are not afforded the same rights as service animals under the Americans with Disabilities Act because they have not been trained to conduct a specific task.
What’s more, it’s not just around housing that vets are facing challenges securing and retaining their emotional support animals, which can range from chickens to pigs to lizards. Reports are commonplace of unhoused veterans and other former servicemembers having their pets taken away, resulting in significant emotional stress.
“The emotional support they give is unexplainable. … To take away an animal from a veteran, personally I don’t understand it,” said Janet Kerrigan-Carpenter, founder of Sophie’s Companions for Veterans, an Ohio-based organization that has trained rescue dogs to become companion animals for nearly 40 veterans since 2016.
“One of our veterans … literally cannot go into Lowe’s or Home Depot without the [dog] trainer; he can’t go even with just his dog yet,” she said.
Navy veteran Mandy Vazeery discovered the anguish of losing her emotional support animals: a 5-year-old corgi, Max, and a 7-year-old Siamese cat, Charlie.
“We were extremely bonded. … They played a pivotal role in me being relaxed and safe at home,” as a victim of domestic violence, said Vazeery, who served with the U.S. Navy from 2005 until 2012 in Naval Station Great Lakes in Illinois and San Diego, where she was attached to the USNS Mercy, a hospital ship.
Her pets “really anchored me in,” she said. “Max and I had a very regimented routine … I would walk him four to five times a day around the neighborhood, just to get me outside and connecting with others.”
In September 2024, she suffered a post-traumatic stress-related blackout that hospitalized her for several weeks. She recalls that during the incident, she left her apartment door open. An ambulance was called for her, and a neighbor took her dog in, while her cat, Charlie, roamed outdoors for several days.
Neighbors took Max and Charlie to a branch of the Humane Society, where they were quickly adopted out, separately, within a week, she said. Before the pets were adopted, the Humane Society attempted to reach out to Vazeery, she said, but they did not have the correct phone number. She pleaded with the people who adopted the pets to return them but they refused.
“There should be something in place,” she said, “a sort of program for veterans with service animals, a way of keeping track [of them].”
The days, weeks, and months that followed were hugely traumatic for Vazeery, almost leading to another hospitalization, she said.
“It was during the holiday season, and it was devastatingly lonely, and I had to stay with my family because I couldn’t function.”
For Combs, his chickens also helped him connect to his children. He would watch with delight as his toddler, Arkyn, would knock on the garage door, where the birds were let in for a time, and greet the chickens.
“Having my youngest one, who also had speech issues … one of his first words that I could actually understand was ‘Hi, friends,’” Combs said. “It melts your heart.”
When the city demanded Combs relinquish his flock, he launched a formal appeal and spent hundreds of dollars registering several of the birds at the U.S. Service Animal and Support Animal Registry in an attempt to meet the city’s regulations.
The case soon caught the public’s attention. The Dayton Daily News wrote a series of articles highlighting his plight. Members of the public spoke in support of Combs at City Council meetings. A national advocacy group reached out to Combs to highlight his predicament.
But none of those efforts worked.
In November, Combs was forced to give up. He dismantled his coop and gave away the chickens, some to a cousin in rural Ohio, others to a co-worker’s family member.
“I don’t have that no more. For what? … It just seems like everything in my life revolves around power. I am worthless, is what I’m told,” he said.
“And that’s what the city did to me. The city came in, without inspecting, without putting their eyes on a single pet. They took it from me. They took what little happiness I was having.”
The city didn’t respond directly to questions from The War Horse about whether Combs’ military service merited him keeping his hens. Instead, a city representative wrote in an email, in part:
“Although the definition [Section 1139.04.6 of the City’s Zoning Code] includes the word ‘fowl’ in a list of acceptable species, the definition goes on to explain that such animals must be tame and domesticated or must be animals commonly kept indoors, and excludes animals used for food production and agricultural value.”
In the end, Combs couldn’t fight City Hall. So far, he has not done anything to fill the void left by the loss of his flock. His wife, Melodie, said he hasn’t been the same.
“He didn’t treat the chickens like a pet. He treated them like family,” she said. “It really breaks my heart.”
This War Horse story was edited by Mike Frankel, fact-checked by Jess Rohan, and copy-edited by Mitchell Hansen-Dewar. Hrisanthi Pickett wrote the headlines.
