by Eric Sather
In California family law, no statute has caused more paws-ativity than Family Code Section 2605, which allows the court to order a party to care for the pet animal prior to the final determination of ownership. Since its enactment in 2019, this groundbreaking legislation has fundamentally transformed how California courts approach pet custody disputes, moving beyond the traditional view of pets as mere property toward a more nuanced understanding of the human-animal bond. The statute’s application has led to some truly fetching case law that would make any animal lover sit, stay, and take notice.
The evolution of pet custody law reflects a broader societal shift in how we view our four-legged, feathered, and finned family members. In 2025, Americans are projected to spend over $157 billion annually on their pets, with California leading the nation in pet ownership and pet-related expenditures. This financial commitment mirrors the emotional investment modern pet parents make in their animals’ wellbeing. Interestingly, animal behaviorists note that pets often develop stronger attachments to the family member who feeds them regularly—a factor that has become relevant in custody determinations. Dogs, for instance, typically show preference through proximity-seeking behavior, following their favored human from room to room, while cats express their allegiances more subtly through slow blinks, selective lap-sitting privileges, and fewer side-eye stares.
In re Marriage of Broady, 2025 Cal. App. Unpub. LEXIS 4535, ulti-MUTT-ly centered around custody of a rescue bulldog named Dozer. The case exemplifies the creative arguments presented in pet custody battles. The husband argued that Dozer preferred his cooking and had developed a taste for his signature prime rib, presenting evidence of the dog’s enthusiastic mealtime responses and what he termed “culinary bonding sessions.” He submitted video evidence of Dozer performing his entire repertoire of tricks—sit, shake, play dead, and even a backflip—all for a morsel of that prime rib.
The wife, however, testified that the husband had surprised her with the dog, specifically stating, “I got you a dog,” which she argued established her as the intended primary caregiver. Moreover, the wife provided extensive documentation including veterinary records, receipts, and invoices demonstrating that she had taken Dozer to doggy yoga classes, acuPUPcture sessions, and even canine cognitive behavioral therapy following an incident over Dozer’s destruction of the wife’s collection of rare Beanie Babies that were “definitely going to be worth something.”
The court's analysis in Broady went beyond simple ownership questions. The judge reviewed Instagram posts spanning three years, noting the wife’s consistent documentation of Dozer’s daily activities versus the husband’s sporadic “Steak Sunday” posts. Ultimately, the court awarded sole custody to the wife, citing her consistent commitment to Dozer’s holistic wellness and her demonstrated understanding of the breed-specific needs of bulldogs, including their susceptibility to respiratory issues and the importance of maintaining a healthy weight despite their perpetual hunger—a trait bulldog owners know all too well.
In the Orange County Superior Court case of Podobas v. Goetsch, 2023 Cal. Super. LEXIS 88803, the court faced the task of determining custody of a cockapoo named Tumbles. This case highlighted the lengths to which pet parents will go to demonstrate superior caregiving. One party presented evidence of a custom-built three-story doghouse complete with climate control, a sound system playing classical music, and a webcam system for remote interaction during work hours. The opposing party countered with evidence of nightly massage routines, detailed grooming logs, and testimony from a canine massage therapist who described the profound interspecies bond observed during their sessions. One wonders whether, if such a bond had been present in the relationship, this whole hearing might have been unnecessary.
The court in Podobas delivered a reality check amid the escalating demonstrations of pet pampering, stating: “Adorable though Tumbles no doubt is, Tumbles is still chattel under California law.” The court ultimately found the parties were tenants in common and awarded joint custody, with Tumbles alternating weeks between the parties. Additionally, the parties were ordered to equally share expenses related to doggy daycare, the Farmer’s Dog fresh food subscription, and quarterly spa treatments.
The pet custody revolution has spawned numerous colorful cases across California’s family courts. There have been disputes over dogs of every size and temperament, exotic birds whose vocabularies included embarrassing details about their owners’ private lives, and even a memorable case involving a goldfish named Fin Diesel whose aquarium setup cost more than most people’s monthly rent.
I am not aware of any cases in which the pet itself has been asked to testify. Just as well, as we could probably predict their sentiments by species:
Dog: “Every day I play dead when my human makes the finger-gun gesture. But in actuality, I would take a bullet for my human! They’re perfect and smell like love and snacks. In conclusion, I object to any charges because they’re a VERY GOOD HUMAN!”
Cat: “I refuse to acknowledge this court’s jurisdiction over me. However, regarding my bipedal servant: they are marginally less incompetent than most others. They operate the can opener with acceptable efficiency and maintain my litter box to tolerable standards. While they occasionally interrupt my tactical planning sessions for world domination with their pathetic need for cuddles, they are useful for warmth generation. Of all the humans I’m plotting to subjugate, I suppose I’d eliminate them last.”
Curiously, despite cats being the second most popular pet in California, there are remarkably few reported cases involving feline custody disputes. This absence might be explained by cat behavior itself—unlike dogs, who display obvious distress during separation, cats often maintain an air of supreme indifference that makes custody battles seem pointless. As one family law attorney noted, parties are usually hounding each other over who does *not* have to keep the aloof furball.
These cases highlight the evolving judicial approach to pet custody, which now resembles child custody proceedings in complexity—minus the Evidence Code Section 730 child custody evaluations and plus considerably more discussions about preferred brands of bully sticks and the merits of grain-free versus ancestral diet kibble. While Section 2605 does not explicitly require courts to apply a “best interest of the pet” standard as they would in child custody cases, judicial opinions increasingly reference factors that sound suspiciously similar: stability of environment, consistency of care, emotional bonds, and even the pet’s own preferences when discernible.
Eric Sather is a family law attorney at Stegmeier, Gelbart, Schwartz & Benavente and is on the OCBA Board of Directors. His daughter’s 6th birthday wish list had one non-negotiable item, and after some boardroom-level discussions involving crayon-drawn presentations and a formal contract, she walked away with Hobbes the cat and full visitation rights.