Research Challenges What People Assume About Homeless Pet Owners

Studies Show the Bond Between Homeless People and Their Animals Is Often Stronger and Healthier Than the Public Assumes

Near the intersection of 103rd Street and Wilmington Avenue in Watts, one recent afternoon, a homeless man rested beside a shopping cart on a patch of sun-bleached grass near a bus stop. Nearby, a lean, tan German shepherd lay quietly, its ears lowered against the afternoon heat as traffic rolled steadily through the intersection.

When the man stood, the dog rose immediately with him.

There was no leash.

As they approached the crosswalk, the dog trotted a few steps ahead. Reaching the opposite curb first, it stopped, turned, and fixed its gaze on the man as he slowly pushed his shopping cart through the intersection. Only after the man reached the sidewalk did the dog continue walking beside him.

The moment lasted only a few seconds, but it raised a question many homeless pet owners confront every day: when people see someone living on the street with an animal, what assumptions do they make?

When Homelessness Becomes Evidence of Neglect

For many observers, homelessness itself has become shorthand for neglect. Those assumptions increasingly play out in politics and across social media, where videos featuring homeless people with companion animals frequently become flashpoints for debate over whether the animals should be removed from their owners.

One widely viewed video reviewed by Invisible People offers a striking example. An older woman approaches a homeless man resting beside his leashed dog and attempts to remove the animal, insisting the dog does not belong on the street. Nearby bystanders intervene, but the woman becomes confrontational and vows to return. Concerned she might follow through, the bystanders remain nearby. When she returns minutes later and again attempts to take the dog, they intervene a second time, waking the dog’s owner during the confrontation. Only after the woman finally leaves do the bystanders purchase pet supplies and gift cards, returning later to help both the man and his dog.

The encounter reflects what advocates say homeless pet owners frequently experience: homelessness itself becoming evidence of neglect before anyone knows the circumstances.

During Los Angeles’ recent mayoral race, reality television personality Spencer Pratt echoed those perceptions, claiming homeless people abuse animals and even test drugs on their pets. Invisible People contacted Pratt by email and Instagram, inviting him to provide evidence supporting those claims or to offer additional context. He did not respond before publication.

What the Research Shows

But are those assumptions supported by evidence?

Researchers who have spent decades studying the relationship between people experiencing homelessness and their companion animals say the answer is largely no. Instead, a growing body of research paints a markedly different picture.

A University of Cambridge study found that dogs owned by people experiencing homelessness were generally healthy, less likely to be obese, and exhibited fewer behavioral problems than dogs owned by housed owners. Researchers also found that the dogs were often less aggressive and displayed fewer anxiety-related behaviors.

Research has also documented the depth of the human-animal bond among people experiencing homelessness. A University of Southern California study of homeless youth found that most pet owners said their animals kept them company and made them feel loved. Compared with their peers without pets, they also reported lower levels of depression and loneliness.

Advocates estimate that between 3,000 and 6,000 dogs and other companion animals belong to homeless people across the greater Los Angeles area.

Taken together, the research does not suggest homelessness is an ideal environment for people or pets. It does, however, indicate that homelessness alone did not determine the welfare of the dogs studied.

Those conclusions closely mirror what organizations working directly with homeless pet owners say they encounter every day.

When Assumptions Become Real-World Consequences

For Diana Cruz, program director and law clerk at the Housing Equity & Advocacy Resource Team (HEART LA), the disconnect between public perception and lived experience has become one of the organization’s defining challenges.

Originally founded to provide free legal assistance to tenants facing housing insecurity because of their pets, HEART LA has expanded its work to include people living in cars, tents, and on the streets who struggle to remain with their companion animals.

“People don’t see people as human,” Cruz said. “They see the animal as something that needs to be rescued without offering the same type of assistance to the person.”

Cruz said those assumptions do not remain online. In some cases, she said, they shape real-world interactions with lasting consequences.

That mindset became painfully clear during HEART LA’s involvement in the case of Elliot Haas, a homeless Los Angeles resident whose dog, Luna, became the center of a legal dispute after members of an animal rescue organization removed the dog. Haas maintained he never consented to Luna being taken, while the rescue group disputed that account. Before the litigation could be resolved, Luna was euthanized after being adopted by another family.

The case, Cruz said, illustrated how quickly homelessness can become equated with neglect.

“I think people automatically view people living on the street in a negative light,” she said. “It’s easier to jump to conclusions.”

For Cruz, those assumptions extend beyond public perception. They also shape the choices people make when seeking shelter or housing.

Although some organizations have adopted pet-friendly policies, many emergency shelters still do not accommodate companion animals, forcing some people to choose between accepting shelter and remaining with the animals they consider family.

Cruz said clients frequently exhaust every available alternative, including boarding, temporarily rehoming pets with friends, and requesting accommodations, before considering surrendering an animal.

“If people are turned away, they’re no longer seeking shelter,” she said.

‘He’s Not an Animal. He’s My Family.’

For many people experiencing homelessness, that choice is not hypothetical.

That dilemma is one Dionne Lewis knows firsthand.

Her companion is Summit, a stocky, liver-brown American pit bull with a white chest, white paws, and a white-tipped tail.

Lewis said she found Summit abandoned in a box beside a dead cat when he was only a few days old. His eyes had not yet opened, and he weighed just three ounces. She bottle-fed him with milk and softened rice from her finger until he was strong enough to eat on his own.

Years later, after her son was murdered in 2015 and her mother died from Alzheimer’s disease, Lewis said a series of personal and financial hardships eventually led to homelessness. Through every setback, Summit remained beside her.

Asked what Summit means to her, emotion crept into Lewis’s voice before she answered.

“Everything,” she said. “He has my personality. He has everything about me. He has his own personality.”

Asked who eats first each day, she laughed.

“He eats first. Everything. He eats first.”

Lewis said she trained Summit to open the shelter room door if she ever needed help. Videos she shared with Invisible People show Summit opening the door, a behavior she said ultimately contributed to the dispute that forced her to leave the shelter with him.

Today, Lewis said she is sleeping in her car while working to resolve that dispute.

“I’m not gonna get rid of my dog,” she said. “It’s not gonna happen.”

“He’s not an animal,” she added. “He’s my family.”

Lewis’ experience is consistent with what homeless service providers say they encounter every day.

In a statement to Invisible People, Carolyn McEwen, director of communications for LA Family Housing, said companion animals often become a person’s primary source of stability after the trauma and isolation of homelessness.

“More often than not, they will put their pet’s needs ahead of their own,” McEwen said.

“One thing that makes homelessness unique is the loss of relationships. It’s so isolating. Often, a pet is the only source of companionship and connection. To create barriers to that one access point is damaging.”

McEwen said pets also help rebuild community for people who have been isolated for years.

“Sometimes having a pet is a way to re-establish community with people who have been disenfranchised for so long,” she said. “A pet can help break down isolation and rebuild home and human connection. We see this every day.”

That philosophy has shaped LA Family Housing’s policies.

“If we were going to lead the way home for Angelenos impacted by homelessness, there could be no barriers to entry,” McEwen said. “That includes their pets.”

Unlike many providers, LA Family Housing does not limit admission to emotional support animals or restrict the types of pets participants may bring into interim or permanent housing.

“That’s because pets are family,” McEwen said. “And that’s especially true for our unhoused neighbors.”

For Cruz, those observations reinforce what she witnesses every day.

“For a lot of them, it’s the reason they wake up in the morning,” she said.

Many clients, Cruz said, describe their pets as their closest companions, sources of protection, and sources of emotional support.

“What I’ve seen is that people will go out of their way to make sure their animal has food before them,” she said.

Looking Beyond First Impressions

In Watts that afternoon, the German shepherd waited until its owner reached the opposite curb before continuing beside him.

To passing motorists, it may have looked like little more than a dog following a man pushing a shopping cart.

But the research, the experiences of people like Dionne Lewis, and the organizations working alongside homeless pet owners suggest those brief encounters often reveal far less than many people assume.

What may look, at first glance, like neglect is often something else entirely: a relationship built on companionship, protection, and mutual dependence, one that is frequently judged before it is ever understood.