Brittaney Snow v. John Doe, and/or Jane Doe

Let’s get one thing straight: a 7-year-old girl asked permission to pet a dog. The owner said yes. And then—after one bite—the man let the dog go again, unleashing it to chase her down and bite her three more times. This isn’t a horror movie. This is a real-life petition filed in Tulsa County, where a little girl walking to her bus stop became the victim of what can only be described as a dog attack with an encore performance.

Brittaney Snow is a mom just trying to get her daughter, Serenity, through another school morning. On September 16, 2024, Serenity—just seven years old—was doing the most normal, unremarkable thing a kid can do: walking to the bus stop. She wasn’t trespassing. She wasn’t taunting animals. She wasn’t even close to the house when it started. She was on public property, minding her business, when a dog came running out of a yard like it had been waiting for an audience. Now, most kids might run. But Serenity? She did the polite thing. She turned to the man in the yard—our mystery defendant, currently known only as “John Doe and/or Jane Doe” (because yes, we don’t even know the name of the person who allegedly let a dog chase a child)—and asked, “Can I pet your dog?” And the man said… yes. So she did. And then—chomp—the dog bit her on the arm. Okay. Maybe an overprotective pup. Maybe a miscommunication. But here’s where things go off the rails: the man ran over, pulled the dog off, and then—get this—released it again, allowing it to chase Serenity down and bite her three more times. Let that sink in. The dog attacked. He intervened. And then he let it happen again. That’s not negligence. That’s a director’s cut of a nightmare.

Now, we don’t know much about John or Jane Doe. We don’t know if they’ve had dog problems before. We don’t know if this mutt has a history of lunging at kids or if it’s usually a sweet-tempered golden retriever who just had a bad morning. What we do know is that they owned a dog, it wasn’t restrained, it bit a child who had just been given permission to interact with it, and then—after being physically pulled off—was allowed to go full Cujo on a first-grader trying to escape. We also know the family hasn’t been able to identify the defendant by name yet, which is why the lawsuit uses the legal placeholder “John and/or Jane Doe.” Which sounds like a placeholder for a spy novel, but in this case, it’s just… some neighbor whose identity is still a mystery. Maybe they moved. Maybe they’re hiding. Or maybe the law firm is still knocking on doors like, “Hey, who owns the demon dog that mauled a kid last week?”

So what actually happened? Let’s replay the tape. Serenity approaches. Asks nicely. Gets approval. Touches dog. Dog bites. Man intervenes—good!—pulls dog off. Then, instead of leashing it, locking it up, or at least yelling “STAY!” like any responsible pet owner might do, he apparently just… let go. And the dog, seeing a fleeing child, did what dogs with poor impulse control do: it chased her and bit her again. And again. And again. The petition says she was bitten four times—once after permission, and three more times during the pursuit. That’s not a snap. That’s an attack. And the fact that she was on a public sidewalk, doing nothing wrong, makes it even more outrageous. She had a lawful right to be there. The dog did not. And the owner? Well, he had a duty to control his pet. And by all accounts, he failed—spectacularly.

Now, why are they in court? Legally speaking, this is a classic negligence claim. That means the plaintiff isn’t accusing the dog owner of intentionally setting their dog on a child (though honestly, letting it chase her feels awfully intentional). Instead, they’re saying the owner had a responsibility to keep their dog under control and to warn people if it was dangerous—and they failed on both counts. Oklahoma law, like most states, holds pet owners liable if their animals injure someone, especially when the person was in a place they had a right to be (like a sidewalk) and didn’t provoke the animal. And let’s be clear: asking to pet a dog is not provocation. That’s like saying “Can I borrow your pen?” and getting punched in the face. The provocation here was nonexistent. The dog bit unprovoked. The owner failed to restrain it. And then, in what might be the most baffling decision since someone thought it was okay to put cheese on hot dogs, he let it go again. That’s not just negligence. That’s negligence with a side of “what were you thinking?!”

So what do they want? $75,000. Is that a lot? Well, for a dog bite case, it’s not outlandish. Medical bills for a child with multiple bites, potential scarring, and emotional trauma can add up fast. We’re talking ER visits, stitches, antibiotics, maybe even plastic surgery down the line. And then there’s the psychological toll. Imagine being seven years old and having a dog chase you down after you did everything right. That kind of trauma doesn’t just go away. Nightmares, fear of animals, anxiety around walking to school—those are real, lasting impacts. And while no amount of money can erase that, the law says you can at least try to compensate for it. So $75,000? In the grand scheme of personal injury claims, that’s actually on the lower end. No punitive damages (which would punish the defendant for especially bad behavior), no demand for the dog to be put down, no wild conspiracy theories—just a mom asking for help covering the costs of her daughter’s pain and recovery. If anything, it feels underpriced.

Now, here’s our take: the most absurd part of this case isn’t even the attack. It’s the second release. You pulled the dog off. You saw it bite a child. And then you just… let it go? Did you think, “Oh, he’s sorry now”? Did you believe the dog would just sit there and wag its tail while the kid ran away? This wasn’t a split-second mistake. This was a choice. And that choice turned a single bite into a full-blown assault. We’re not saying every dog owner needs to be a canine behavioral expert, but basic common sense should tell you: if your dog just bit someone, do not let it run free. Especially not toward the victim. That’s not just negligent. That’s borderline indefensible.

We’re rooting for Serenity. We’re rooting for the mom, Brittaney Snow, for having the strength to file this and demand accountability. And honestly, we’re rooting for common sense to win. Because if this case teaches us anything, it’s that politeness shouldn’t be punished. Asking permission shouldn’t lead to trauma. And no child should have to flee from a dog their neighbor chose to unleash—twice. This isn’t just about a dog. It’s about responsibility. It’s about accountability. And it’s about making sure that the next kid who asks, “Can I pet your dog?” doesn’t have to pay for their kindness in scars.