Texas Rancher’s Fight to Save 500-Deer Herd from Slaughter

The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department was en route to Robert Williams’ farm, planning to kill his entire herd of whitetail deer, when word came through that a court had blocked the operation.

On that day, in early April, parks and wildlife staffers almost followed through on a kill order that the state had issued for the North Texas herd, after a number of the animals tested positive for a contagious, deadly disease.

The state contends that the illness — chronic wasting disease, which is specific to cervids such as deer and elk — is so threatening that even a few positive cases can necessitate the killing of an entire herd to prevent the spread to other captive herds or to wild deer.

Williams, who is one of nearly 1,000 whitetail breeders registered in Texas, says that stance is nothing but fear-mongering. He’s fighting to save the herd, which he raises for trophy hunting.

In the months since that day when the state almost showed up at the gates of Williams’ ranch, the legal battle has twisted through courts and is now awaiting a response from the Texas Supreme Court.

The case highlights a struggle between state regulators and ranchers, over property rights and government interference, within the context of a high-stakes deer breeding industry worth more than $350 million per year. The case has ignited social media debate and has caught the interest of at least one state senator, while also testing the legal boundaries of temporary court orders.

But on the farm, outside of the public eye, the stakes are highly personal.

As the case has dragged from early spring into the summer, the farm’s pregnant does have birthed scores of fawns. And for Williams’ daughter, Maree Lou, every passing day of uncertainty is pain compounded.

“I’m seeing babies born. And then not knowing if they’re going to kill them or not,” said Maree Lou Williams, who works as the ranch manager. “It’s not right.”

The legal saga centers around a number of deer on RW Trophy Ranch, east of Dallas, that have tested positive for chronic wasting disease over the past 17 months.

It began when several of Williams’ deer died in the February 2021 freeze. One of the tissue samples tested positive for CWD.

Williams then had all of his deer live-tested, and he euthanized the ones that also tested positive for CWD. But the state said that wasn’t enough. Texas Parks and Wildlife Department proposed that the entire farm be “depopulated.”

Williams refused to agree to that proposal, which led to a back-and-forth that included alternate proposals that Williams similarly viewed as “onerous,” according to court documents. So Williams sued the state, claiming the wildlife department was attempting to violate his property rights.

After the failed negotiations, the department issued a kill order for all of Williams’ deer. Williams and his lawyer, Jennifer Riggs, scrambled to block the order, leading to that Monday in early April when the state almost showed up at the ranch with depopulation gear in tow.

Since then, the court case has plodded along at a less dramatic pace.

From the beginning, the state has argued that the entire lawsuit should be dismissed because, legally, whitetail deer cannot be owned. Under Texas state law, whitetail deer are wild animals; people with permits can hold the animals in captivity and breed them, but cannot legally own the animals. And because of that, the department argued, a depopulation could not violate Williams’ property rights.

The Parks and Wildlife Department believes Williams “lacks a vested property interest in the breeder deer,” said department attorney Todd George in an email.

But a Kaufman County judge did not give an answer to the argument for dismissal — called a plea to the jurisdiction — and instead issued a temporary restraining order that blocked the state from killing Williams’ deer. The state took that response as a sign that its plea to the jurisdiction had been denied, even though the judge didn’t specifically say that.

So, in early April, the state appealed to the Fifth District Court of Appeals in Dallas..

A month later, the panel of justices ruled it wasn’t possible to appeal a temporary restraining order. The state in mid-June appealed again, this time to the Texas Supreme Court, which has not decided whether it will take up the case.

In the meantime, Williams and his attorney, Riggs, say they feel like the wildlife department is stalling. The quarantine order forbids Williams from selling or releasing deer, even as fawns add to the herd.

“We would love to get this resolved because Robert is paying a fortune, especially now with the drought and the heat. I mean, to take care of that many deer is a huge burden,” Riggs said. “I think they’re trying to starve him out.”

Williams, though, doesn’t seem ready to give up the fight.

“They just think eventually I’ll run out of money,” Williams said. “I’m not broke. I may be broke before it’s over, but I don’t want to kill my deer.”

Todd George, an attorney with the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, said the state is “absolutely not” trying to wait out Williams.

“We’ve been diligently proceeding in all the litigation that Mr. Williams has filed and we’re currently appealing the decision at the Court of Appeals to the Texas Supreme Court,” George said.

On the farm

While Williams’ case winds through appeals and hearings, there’s one thing the courts can’t prevent: fawning season.

On an early July morning, flocks of wide-eyed fawns huddle under specially built low-profile shelters, which look like a roof placed almost-directly on the ground. The low height gives the fawns a place to escape where the adult deer can’t reach them, and a place to rest in the shade.

By the end of fawn season, Maree Lou Williams estimates there will be 200 fawns on the farm.

As Maree Lou Williams drives a farm buggy through one of the doe-and-fawn pens, she checks under the shaded shelters. But she eyes the boundary of the pen, too, searching for little brown bundles tucked into the longer grass along the fence.

She stops periodically to offer grapes and mini Nilla wafers to the small fan club of adult does that trail expectantly behind the buggy.

When she spots tufts of brown and white spotted fur against the fence, she stops the buggy and gets out. When the fawns are less than a day old, they can still be handled easily and aren’t coordinated enough to bound away.

Normally, fawning season is a time of joy — of delight at finding new babies each morning and thinking of names for her favorites. This fawning season, though, is tinged with despair.

“You become attached, whether you want to or not,” Maree Lou Williams said. “And so I try not to name them, where I used to name them, because it’s like that just makes my attachment deeper.

“It’s not a switch I can turn off, my care-mothering switch I can’t turn off.”

Maree Lou Williams said the uncertainty has been the most difficult part, not knowing what will happen to the herd.

That uncertainty has impacted farm operations, too. Normally, the workers would tag the fawns, as required by state law, and be gearing up for some sales and releases to keep the herd at a steady headcount.

But this year, the rules for Williams’ farm are entirely unclear. They can’t buy or sell the animals. And, as herd caretaker Cheyenne Hayes said, they don’t even know how long the fawns will be allowed to live.

“This year, we’re not even tagging because we don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing at this point,” Hayes said.

A spokesperson for Texas Parks and Wildlife declined to make available officials to discuss the specifics of the case, other than the department attorney. In previous interviews with the Star-Telegram, big game director Mitch Lockwood expressed sympathy for the pain that the Williamses are experiencing.

“It is a very difficult situation for everybody involved, especially them,” Lockwood said. “The emotional side of things is the toughest part to deal with here.”

The department’s wildlife veterinarian, Dr. Hunter Reed, said in a previous interview with the Star-Telegram that depopulation operations take a toll on staff, too.

“They’re extremely difficult not only for people having these facilities depopulated, but also for the staff and for the veterinarians like me who didn’t sign up to depopulate animals,” Reed said. “But at the end of the day, with a disease such as CWD that has so few management options that are actually effective, this is unfortunately the option we’re most commonly left with.”

A waiting game

Since the foiled depopulation attempt in April, the state has not issued another kill order for Williams’ farm.

But George, the Texas Parks and Wildlife attorney, said he believes the department could issue that order, which comes with a 10-day notice, if it chose.

“There’s nothing legally stopping us from issuing another 10-day (depopulation) letter today,” George said.

For now, the department isn’t pursuing that order for Williams’ farm, George said.

“Staff has decided not to do that at this time, and I think the main reason right now is safety of staff and safety and humane treatment of the animals when it’s been so hot,” George said.

It’s also unclear how the state would carry out a depopulation on the farm now that there are a couple hundred fawns on the farm in addition to about 500 adult deer. Under the April kill order, officials had planned to shoot each deer.

Williams has tried one other tactic. Independently of Riggs, his attorney, he sent a letter to state officials and made an unconventional proposal.

Williams wrote to Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton and the wildlife commissioners that he would agree to a full depopulation on one condition: that all of those officials go to his farm and watch the depopulation take place.

“I will pursue federal indemnification funds and agree to let TPWD come slaughter my healthy bucks, doe and innocent baby deer if, and only if, all the commissioners and the Attorney General attend the slaughter and view the carnage,” Williams wrote.

Williams offered another solution, too: if the state would let him release his entire herd onto his enjoining ranch property, then he would give up his breeders’ license and exit the industry.

Williams told the Star-Telegram that he doesn’t think the state officials will take him up on his proposal and drive out to his farm for a day of killing. But the offer stands, he said.

“I don’t think they’ll agree to that,” Williams said. “But if they do, then I’ll have as many newspapers … and TV and hundreds of people out here to watch them slaughter those deer.”