On September 22, 2025, a small but determined crowd gathered outside the gates of Magilligan Prison in County Londonderry, holding placards and voicing their concerns for a four-legged resident who, until days before, had called the high-security facility home. The focus of their protest? Bailey, a three-and-a-half-year-old spaniel who had become both a symbol of hope and a lightning rod for controversy in Northern Ireland’s prison system.
Bailey was no ordinary inmate. Brought in earlier in 2025 after his previous family could no longer care for him, Bailey was quickly pressed into service as a support dog—a role that, according to the Northern Ireland Prison Service, has a long history of helping prisoners with mental health and addiction issues. The service asserted, “The benefits of dogs providing emotional support is widely recognised. In prison environments dogs can offer support to people with poor mental health and addiction issues, help promote positive changes in behaviour and reduce stress and anxiety.”
Yet, Bailey’s presence at Magilligan, especially in block H2—home to some of the region’s most violent prisoners, including sex offenders and killers—sparked a fierce debate. Animal welfare activists and politicians alike raised questions about the spaniel’s well-being, citing concerns that he had been placed in the prison without adequate training or proper policy frameworks to protect him. Tara Cunningham of Causeway Coast Dog Rescue, the charity that organized Monday’s protest, told BBC News NI, “Our priority is about the animal welfare of Bailey and other dogs in our prisons in Northern Ireland. We have identified that there is no policy framework to support dogs in Northern Ireland, we have not regulation and we have no legislation and our issue is about looking at the long term projects that are being run in our prisons and how we protect our animals.”
Protesters outside the prison echoed Cunningham’s concerns, waving signs that read “Stand Up For Bailey” and calling on the public to join their campaign for better protections for all animals in Northern Ireland’s prisons. The group’s statement was unequivocal: “This is not just our fight – it’s a fight for every rescue dog. If you say you stand for them, be there.”
The situation took a dramatic turn when the Northern Ireland Prison Service announced that Bailey had been removed from Magilligan after the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) alerted them to a “callous and calculated external threat” to harm the dog as a means to embarrass the prison governor. In a statement, the Prison Service insisted, “A perfectly happy and well looked after dog at Magilligan Prison has had to be moved after the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) made us aware of a callous and calculated external threat to say that Bailey was going to be harmed in an attempt to embarrass the governor.”
Officials were quick to stress that Bailey’s welfare had always been their top priority. “He was safe and cared for when he was living at Magilligan, he is safe and being cared for now,” a spokesperson said. The Department of Justice echoed this, stating, “Bailey is registered with a local veterinary practice and is in good health. Local council officials have recently visited Magilligan and confirmed that Bailey is in excellent condition, appropriately housed and safeguarded.”
Despite these assurances, the controversy refused to die down. UUP MLA Jon Burrows, who had been closely monitoring the case, confirmed on September 21 that “Bailey is now out of prison.” He elaborated, “Bailey is out of that environment, is now in a family home, with someone who’s trained to look after him, and there’s going to be an effort I hope made to try and find Bailey a permanent home to live in.”
Burrows’ involvement didn’t stop at public statements. In a letter dated September 18 to Magilligan Governor David Milling, he outlined three main concerns: the lack of a dedicated, primary handler for Bailey, the absence of formal, specialist dog-handling training for prison officers, and the fact that Bailey did not appear to leave the prison environment after his ‘shift’ to recuperate in a domestic setting. He warned that these issues not only affected Bailey but also pointed to deeper failings in policy and transparency within the justice system.
Allegations also surfaced that Bailey had developed a limp and was “quivering at night” due to the constant alarms and disturbances within the prison—a claim attributed to information from prison officers and cited by Burrows. While these claims fueled public concern, an official inspection provided a counterpoint, finding Bailey “in excellent condition, alert, active, and comfortable, and shows no signs of neglect or stress. He freely interacts with staff and prisoners, has regular contact with another dog, and has 24/7 access to on-call veterinary care.”
The debate over Bailey’s welfare quickly became a proxy for larger questions about the use of animals in correctional settings. Causeway Coast Dog Rescue, speaking on behalf of Bailey’s previous owner, stated, “Our first and overriding concern is Bailey, his immediate welfare and his long-term future.” They pressed for confirmation that Bailey’s removal was permanent and demanded a proposal for his long-term care. More broadly, they called for comprehensive safeguards and regulations to protect all dogs in Northern Ireland’s prisons.
The Prison Service, for its part, defended its track record and pointed to the broader context: “Dogs are utilised in prisons across these islands for this purpose and have been supporting prisoners in Northern Ireland for over 20 years.” The service also criticized what it described as “inaccurate and sensationalist reporting” that had, in their view, become an unnecessary distraction from the real issues facing the prison system.
MLA Cara Hunter of East Derry also became involved, writing to Justice Minister Naomi Long to express concern for Bailey’s safety. The findings provided to Hunter confirmed that all previous concerns about Bailey were unfounded, reinforcing the official stance that the dog had been well cared for.
But for many, the incident has exposed a gap in policy and oversight. As Tara Cunningham put it, “We want to understand what safeguards are going to be reviewed and put in place for all dogs in prisons in Northern Ireland.” The lack of a clear regulatory framework, formal training for handlers, and established procedures for the welfare of support animals is now under the microscope, with campaigners vowing to keep up the pressure for reform.
For now, Bailey is out of the prison system—safe, cared for, and awaiting a permanent home. Yet his story continues to spark debate, raising important questions about animal welfare, prisoner rehabilitation, and the responsibilities of public institutions. In the end, Bailey’s ordeal has shone a light on the complex intersection of compassion, care, and accountability in Northern Ireland’s justice system.
