The killer cocks of Oregon

It's a felony to fight roosters in Oregon, as it is in 47 other states. But, oddly, it is not illegal to raise game fowl for fighting. Oregon remains one of the few states where farmers can raise and sell game hens and roosters for this purpose.

Animal rights advocates balk at the inconsistency. Like outlawing the use of marijuana but not its production, they say, such uneven enforcement ignores the roots of the problem.

In January, at the start of the latest legislative session in Salem, freshman Sen. Ryan Deckert, D-Beaverton, introduced S.B. 222, a bill to close the loophole on cockfighting. The law would ratchet up the penalties for cockfighting to five years in prison and ultimately outlaw breeding.

Although it is Deckert's first term in the Senate, he served two prior terms as a state representative. He is young and well-liked around the Capitol. The bill, Deckert believed, would sail through committees and into a clear majority vote on the Senate floor. It was more of a formality -- closing a bizarre loophole in the law -- than groundbreaking activism. "In a civilized society," said Deckert, "having two roosters with knives trying to kill each other is not something we should have."

Regardless, within days, the bill was dead. Assigned to the Business Committee -- of which Deckert is a member -- the chairman, Sen. Roger Beyer, R-Molalla, refused to give the bill a hearing, which is regarded as a professional slap in the face. "Now, it's personal," Deckert said.

Although cockfighters and game breeders are notoriously clandestine, they also have an impressive track record for quashing any legislation restricting their trade. Kelly Peterson, program coordinator for the Oregon chapter of the Humane Society, points out that when a citizens group tried to place the matter on the ballot in Oklahoma last fall, signature gatherers were harassed and physically threatened. Eventually the group rounded up enough signatures, but then the game breeders filed a lawsuit that sidetracked the initiative. Hogtied by the contentious legal battle, it did not make the ballot. In Oregon, game breeders have hired a high-priced mouthpiece, local attorney Ross Day, to lobby legislators to vote against any bill that would ban breeding.

"Don't underestimate these guys," Peterson explains, referring to the state's game hen breeders. "You don't hear a lot from them on an average day and then, all of a sudden, they are everywhere."

At stake is a piece of the industry's profits -- roughly a billion dollars a year globally, according to law enforcement agents and breeders. One breeder in eastern Oregon claimed that he had sold several breeding hens to the father of heavyweight boxer Oscar de la Hoya for about $500 a head. He also said that he had been contacted by a major U.S. airline, which inquired about the logistics of retrofitting a cargo plane to transport game hens. The airline, he said, was planning to begin weekly shipments of game hens to the Philippines, where the sport is widely popular, and legal.

Also at stake is a sport that historians can trace back 6,000 years to Rome, where the spectacle of two birds slashing at each other was used to warm up crowds for the main events. Currently in the United States, three monthly magazines are dedicated to cockfighting and breeding. The oldest, Grit & Steel, has a circulation of more than 50,000 and has been around longer than Time magazine.

But the public's enthusiasm for animal husbandry and the use of animals for entertainment has chilled over the past 20 years. With Deckert's bill languishing in the state Senate, the Humane Society turned around in early February and lobbied members of Oregon's House of Representatives to propose another bill to ban breeding. The Humane Society's Peterson found an unlikely audience with Rep. Jeff Kropf, R-Halsey, a farmer and a Republican. In turn, Rep. Kropf has cosponsored H.B. 2930, a carbon copy of Deckert's bill.

Even with bipartisan support, Peterson is cautious about the chances for either bill. The House bill has been assigned to the Judiciary Committee and has been churning slowly through work sessions and hearings. But breeders can be tenacious -- they've been known to sabotage committee hearings by stuffing 60 supporters into a hearing room that holds only 80, leaving just enough room for committee members and the media. The breeders' presence can be overwhelming and, as one of the last states to permit breeding, Oregon has emerged as the game breeders' Alamo.

At the first public hearing on March 29, a few dozen breeders and their lobbyist attended. As representatives saw the faces of the breeders, Peterson sensed a cooling in the determination to ban breeding.

Next Page: Keep your laws off our roosters

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