His name was Teddy.
The Shih Tzu mix belonged to Nicholas Hunter, who had cared for him since he was a puppy. Teddy had escaped his fenced yard, and a neighbor who found him wanted to help him get home.
She called the authorities, expecting someone to collect the lost dog and locate his owner.
Instead, a police officer arrived. Within minutes, Teddy was dead.
The encounter was captured on the officer’s body camera. More than a year later, it would lead to a $500,000 legal settlement and renewed questions about how police departments respond to animals that need help.
For Hunter, however, the case was never simply about a settlement. It was about a dog who had wandered away from home and never had the chance to return.
Teddy Was a Small Dog With Special Needs
Teddy was approximately five years old when he died. He had been deaf since birth and had lost his sight about two years before the shooting.
Despite those limitations, Hunter described him as an energetic dog.
Losing both sight and hearing changes how a dog experiences familiar surroundings. Visual signals and spoken commands become less useful, while scent, touch, and predictable routines take on greater importance.
A dog in Teddy’s position may have difficulty identifying an unfamiliar person approaching or understanding what that person wants.
Movement that seems unusual to a stranger can have a much simpler explanation when an animal cannot see or hear.
None of that meant Teddy was incapable of enjoying life with his owner. His disabilities were part of his everyday care, not evidence that he was dangerous or needed to be put down.
For Hunter, Teddy was a familiar companion with an established place in his life.
On that Sunday in May, Teddy slipped out of his fenced area while Hunter was away.
By the time someone noticed him, he had reached a neighboring backyard.
A Neighbor Tried to Help Him
The person who discovered Teddy did not describe an animal attacking anyone.
According to reporting at the time, the neighbor gave him water and remained nearby while trying to arrange help.
Teddy was lost, but he had been found by someone willing to look after him until his owner could be identified.
In Sturgeon, a small Missouri community, local police officers also handled animal-control responsibilities. Calling the police about an unfamiliar dog was therefore an available way to request assistance.
The neighbor contacted Boone County Joint Communications, hoping the authorities could find the person Teddy belonged to.
The purpose of that call was straightforward: a dog had wandered into the wrong yard, and someone needed to help him get home.
The neighbor did not report that Teddy had attacked her. She later emphasized that he had not behaved aggressively.
For a dog unable to see or hear, being approached by strangers could reasonably create confusion. But confusion and aggression are not the same thing.
That distinction would become central to what happened next.
Officer Myron Woodson Arrived With a Catch Pole
Sturgeon Police Officer Myron Woodson responded to the call.
His body-camera footage shows him retrieving gloves and a catch pole, a tool commonly used in animal control to restrain an animal while maintaining some distance.
Woodson approached Teddy and made several attempts to catch him.
The dog moved away.
At different points, Teddy walked or ran farther from the officer, who continued trying to secure him with the pole.
The attempts were unsuccessful.
What matters in the recording is not simply that Woodson struggled to catch Teddy, but how the little dog behaved during those attempts.
According to ABC 17 News, which obtained and reviewed the footage, Teddy did not growl at Woodson or attempt to bite him.
The recording documents a small dog repeatedly moving away from an approaching person.
It does not establish what Teddy understood about the encounter. His blindness and deafness made that especially difficult to determine.
Whatever prompted his movements, the available video did not show an attack.
Yet the encounter was about to take a much more serious turn.
The Officer Mentioned a Blanket but Never Used One
At one point during the encounter, Woodson considered a different method.
He spoke about getting a blanket and wrapping Teddy in it.
Using a blanket can sometimes help secure a small animal, depending on the circumstances and the person’s ability to approach safely. Such handling still requires care, especially when an animal is frightened or unable to understand what is happening.
In Teddy’s case, the idea was never carried out.
Instead, the officer continued the encounter without successfully securing him.
The body-camera footage later reviewed by reporters establishes a precise timeline.
Three minutes and six seconds passed between Woodson’s first close approach to Teddy and the first gunshot.
Woodson fired twice.
Teddy died in the backyard where a neighbor had called for someone to help him.
There was no reunion with Hunter, no opportunity for his owner to bring him back through the fence, and no return to the routines Teddy had known.
The call that began as a request for animal-control assistance had ended with the loss of a family pet.
The City’s Explanation Raised More Questions
The following day, the City of Sturgeon publicly defended the officer’s actions.
Its initial explanation described Teddy as possibly injured or sick. Officials said his behavior had appeared consistent with a potential rabies concern.
The city’s account also suggested Woodson believed the dog needed to be euthanized.
Hunter disputed that interpretation.
He told reporters that Teddy was current on his vaccinations, including his rabies vaccine. He also explained that Teddy’s unusual movements were related to his inability to see and hear.
The person who had originally requested assistance submitted a complaint challenging the suggestion that the dog presented a threat.
That complaint described Teddy as nonaggressive.
The body-camera footage added another important source of evidence. Viewers could examine the officer’s attempts to catch Teddy and observe that the dog repeatedly moved away rather than attacking.
The city maintained that Woodson had acted within his authority based on the information available to him at the time.
Hunter and his attorneys strongly disagreed.
The disagreement was no longer just about the death of one dog. It concerned how an officer assessed an animal’s behavior, what alternatives were available, and whether the use of a firearm had been justified.
Hunter Learned What Happened While Returning for Teddy
Hunter had been out to dinner in Columbia when Teddy escaped.
He later told ABC 17 News that he received word his dog had been found. As he was making his way back, he learned that a Sturgeon officer had shot and killed Teddy.
The difference between those two messages was enormous.
One meant that a missing pet had been located and could be brought home.
The other meant that Hunter would never see his dog alive again.
Hunter subsequently spoke with the officer and sought answers from city officials. He filed a formal complaint and questioned the explanation offered for the shooting.
His concerns were not limited to the initial decision to fire the gun. He also challenged how the city responded afterward.
The public statements about possible rabies did not match the account Hunter said he had received during his conversation with Woodson.
For someone already coping with an unexpected loss, those conflicting explanations made it harder to understand why Teddy had been killed.
Hunter wanted the circumstances examined rather than dismissed as an unavoidable animal-control incident.
The Lawsuit Challenged the Use of Deadly Force
In May 2024, Hunter filed a federal lawsuit against Woodson and the City of Sturgeon.
The case alleged that the shooting violated Hunter’s rights under the Fourth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which protects against unreasonable searches and seizures.
Under American law, pets are also recognized as property for certain constitutional purposes. The destruction of a companion animal by a government officer can therefore raise legal questions about whether the action was reasonable.
Hunter’s attorneys argued that the force used against Teddy was unjustified.
The lawsuit also challenged the city’s conduct, alleging failures in training, supervision, and discipline.
Those allegations were significant because Sturgeon had assigned animal-control duties to its police officers. Handling loose dogs was part of the work the officers could be called upon to perform.
The Animal Legal Defense Fund provided financial assistance toward the costs of Hunter’s litigation.
For Hunter, pursuing the case meant seeking accountability through a legal process that could examine both the officer’s decision and the city’s responsibility for preparing its officers.
The Case Raised Questions About Animal-Control Training
As the lawsuit progressed, Hunter’s legal team examined how Sturgeon equipped its officers to handle loose animals.
The city had provided catch poles for animal control. It also had an agreement with Boone County for certain animal-control services, including assistance and emergency responses involving injured animals.
According to arguments presented by Hunter’s attorneys, Woodson had not received adequate training in using the catch pole and had not been informed about the county assistance arrangement.
Those were allegations made in the litigation, rather than findings from a completed trial.
Still, they raised a practical question: What preparation should an officer receive before being expected to capture an unfamiliar animal?
A loose dog may be frightened, injured, poorly socialized, disabled, or simply unwilling to approach a stranger.
Those possibilities call for different assessments. An animal moving unpredictably does not, by itself, establish a threat.
Proper training can help officers recognize canine behavior, maintain safe distances, consider available equipment, and identify situations requiring specialized assistance.
The purpose is to protect people while reducing unnecessary harm to animals.
In Teddy’s case, the body-camera footage showed that a different handling method was considered but not attempted before the shooting.
That detail remained one of the most troubling aspects of the encounter.
Eighteen Months Later, the City Agreed to a $500,000 Settlement
In November 2025, the City of Sturgeon and Woodson reached an agreement to settle Hunter’s lawsuit for $500,000.
The settlement resolved the civil case without a trial verdict determining the defendants’ liability.
According to local reporting, $282,500 was designated for Hunter, while the remaining $217,500 went to the law firm representing him.
The Animal Legal Defense Fund described the agreement as an unusually substantial settlement involving the police shooting of a family dog.
The amount reflected the seriousness with which the legal dispute was treated. It also drew attention to the potential consequences for municipalities whose officers encounter animals without adequate preparation.
But the agreement could address only the legal consequences of Teddy’s death.
It could not restore his sight or hearing. It could not give Hunter another ordinary afternoon with the little dog he had raised.
Most importantly, it could not bring Teddy home.
In the statement released after the settlement, Hunter and his legal representatives made clear that although the case had concluded, the loss remained.
Their hope was that other departments would learn from what happened and improve their training so similar incidents could be avoided.
What Hunter Wanted Other Police Departments to Understand
From the beginning, Hunter’s concerns extended beyond his own loss.
He wanted better training, clearer procedures, and more responsible handling of encounters between officers and family pets.
That goal did not require suggesting that all dogs are harmless or that police officers never face dangerous animals.
There are circumstances in which dogs present genuine threats, and officers must be prepared to respond safely.
But a meaningful assessment must be based on the animal’s behavior and the circumstances of the encounter.
Teddy’s case demonstrated why that distinction matters.
He weighed 13 pounds. He was blind and deaf. The neighbor who found him had requested assistance, not protection from an attacking animal.
The recorded encounter showed him moving away from the officer rather than trying to bite him.
By the time the case settled, those details had become part of a much wider discussion about how departments train officers to distinguish uncertainty from danger.
For Hunter, however, they remained details of the final minutes of his dog’s life.
Teddy Was Lost. Someone Had Already Found Him.
There is a simple sequence at the center of Teddy’s story.
A dog escaped from his yard.
A neighbor noticed him, gave him water, and contacted authorities.
An officer arrived with equipment intended to help handle loose animals.
The dog moved away from him.
Minutes later, Teddy was dead.
Nothing about that sequence requires imagining what Teddy was thinking. His disability, his movements, the neighbor’s account, and the body-camera recording provide the essential facts.
His owner had spent years caring for a dog who could not hear and had eventually lost his vision. Teddy’s needs were familiar to Hunter, even if they were not understood by the officer who encountered him that afternoon.
The $500,000 settlement became an important part of the public record. It gave Hunter a measure of legal resolution and placed greater attention on the need for appropriate animal-control training.
Yet Teddy’s story remains rooted in something much smaller than a federal lawsuit.
He had a home. He had someone who knew him. And when he wandered away, another person recognized that he needed help.
All that was supposed to happen next was getting him back to Nicholas Hunter.
He never made it home.
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