Michelle Dorey Forestell
Local Journalism Initiative Reporter
Kingstonist.com
A colony of dogs at Queen’s University in Kingston has spent decades helping researchers better understand — and potentially cure — hemophilia, a genetic bleeding disorder that affects thousands of Canadians. But as Ontario considers new legislation to restrict testing on dogs and cats, work taking place inside university laboratories is drawing renewed scrutiny — raising broader questions about how animals are used in research, how those decisions are made, and how much the public really knows about it.
At the centre of that conversation is a tension that is not easily resolved: the promise of human medical advancement on one hand, and the ethical cost of using animals in science on the other.
A long-running program — and a rare one
At Queen’s, one of the most visible examples of animal-based research is its hemophilia program, which involves a colony of dogs with a naturally occurring form of the disease.
According to Dr. Andrew Winterborn, the university’s veterinarian and Director of Animal Care Services, the colony has existed for roughly 45 years and is one of only two of its kind in the world. The dogs share a genetic mutation similar to that found in humans with hemophilia, making them uniquely valuable for studying the condition and testing emerging therapies.
In 2024, 43 dogs were part of the program.
Asked what the current number is, Winterborn explained that the university’s animal use figures are tied to the Canadian Council on Animal Care (CCAC) reporting cycle, meaning Queen’s cannot publish newer data until it has been formally approved, leaving 2024 as the latest publicly available year.
Research involving the hemophiliac dog colony has contributed to the development of gene therapies now approved for use in human patients, with the potential for long-term or even permanent treatment of the disease.
“These animals have been fundamental in understanding gene therapy,” Winterborn said.
He described the procedures involved as comparable to routine veterinary care.
“I would consider them to be non-invasive, like blood samples… very similar to if you went to LifeLabs or took your dog for tests at the vet’s office,” he said.
Some research relies on long-term observation over many years, allowing scientists to track how gene therapy performs over time. The university said the work is already producing measurable results, with some dogs no longer experiencing the repeated bleeding episodes that once defined the disease.
Dogs born into the colony without hemophilia are adopted out into homes in the local community, according to the university.
But there are limits. Dogs that undergo gene therapy cannot be rehomed due to federal regulations, Winterborn shared, and must remain within the research environment “to the end of their lives.”
What life looks like inside the labs
Winterborn explained that the university’s approach to animal care is centred on replicating natural behaviours within a controlled research environment.
“We really strive to ensure that the care for our animals… exceeds both Ontario and Canadian standards,” he said.
For dogs in the hemophilia program, this includes daily interaction and individualized care.
“Every single dog within our facility has a name and is treated as an individual,” he said, noting the dogs are given opportunities for play, socialization, and enrichment.
Unlike pets, however, the research colony dogs do not go outdoors.
“Unfortunately… animals that have undergone gene therapy… are not allowed to go outside… and… are not allowed to leave the facility,” he said, citing disease risk and federal regulations.
Beyond dogs: the scale of animal research
While the hemophilia colony draws attention, it represents only a small fraction of the university’s animal use.
In 2024, a total of 30,602 animals were used across 116 research and teaching protocols at Queen’s University. The vast majority — more than 74 per cent — were rodents, primarily mice, while wildlife species such as fish, frogs, birds, and reptiles accounted for roughly a quarter of all animals. Large mammals, including the 43 dogs and 57 non-human primates, accounted for less than one per cent of the total.
According to data categorized under the CCAC system, most animals fell into lower- to moderate-impact categories. More than half were involved in procedures causing little to minor stress or short-term pain, such as blood sampling or anesthetized surgical procedures.
But roughly 40 per cent fell into a category defined by the CCAC as involving “moderate to severe distress or discomfort,” while about 1.5 per cent were used in procedures involving severe pain near or above tolerance thresholds.
What those categories mean in practice — and what animals actually experience within them — is not always clear from public reporting, highlighting the complexity of balancing care with scientific use.
Winterborn emphasized that animals are only used when necessary: that is, “when an animal model is deemed to be the most appropriate for the scientific question being asked.”
Primates and the question of necessity
Among the most ethically sensitive areas of animal research is the use of non-human primates, a category that continues to raise difficult questions about cognitive complexity, social needs, and the limits of acceptable scientific practice.
The question draws on a common point of reference: the discomfort often reported when observing great apes up close, where their cognitive and social similarities to humans can make the ethical boundaries of their use feel less abstract.
Addressing this persistent public concern, Winterborn emphasized that great apes such as orangutans, gorillas, chimpanzees, and bonobos — all widely recognized for their advanced cognition and complex social structures — are not used in research in Canada at all. Their use is illegal.
Even so, the broader use of primates in research continues to generate unease.
At Queen’s University, primate research is limited to species such as rhesus macaques (colloquially known as rhesus monkeys), and only in cases where no other model can answer the scientific question. When asked how those animals compare to great apes, Winterborn’s answer was notably plain: “They are a monkey; they act like a monkey, as you would expect if you saw one at the zoo.”
Winterborn said such research is rare and tightly controlled.
“Non-human primates are only used… under rare and scientifically justified circumstances,” he said, emphasizing that their use is limited to cases “where no other model can provide the same level of insight.”
Pressed on the specifics of how primates are used at Queen’s, he pointed generally to neurological research, including work related to diseases such as Parkinson’s, but did not provide detailed examples tied directly to the university.
“They have historically — and this isn’t specific to Queen’s — been used for understanding neurological disease and how the brain functions,” he said.
He did, however, offer detail about how the animals are housed. Winterborn said the rhesus macaques at Queen’s are kept in “zoo-style” enclosures designed to exceed Canadian and Ontario standards, and are housed in groups to allow for social interaction. Their environments include structures and objects that support climbing, swinging, jumping, foraging, and other natural behaviours.
He compared their daily enrichment to the kind of novelty sometimes introduced in zoo settings, such as hiding food in pumpkins — qualifying that, at Queen’s, similar puzzle-based enrichment is part of the animals’ everyday routine.
But that comparison, intended to ground the unfamiliar in something recognizable, also underscores the discomfort. The same qualities that make primates valuable in research — their intelligence, social behaviour, and biological similarity to humans — are what make their use difficult for many to reconcile.
Even so, the gap between how the public imagines these animals and how they are used in research remains a point of tension — one that institutions like Queen’s are increasingly being asked to address with greater transparency.
Oversight
At Queen’s, all animal-based research must be approved by the University Animal Care Committee, a 17-member body that includes scientists, veterinarians, and community representatives. Furthermore, decisions are made by consensus, meaning all members must agree before a project is approved.
When asked how often research proposals are rejected on ethical grounds, Winterborn did not provide a specific figure. Instead he emphasized that it is “extremely rare” for animal use protocols “to be approved as initially submitted,” noting that most are revised to address animal welfare concerns before approval.
Beyond internal review, research is also subject to external oversight. The CCAC conducts assessments approximately every three years, while provincial inspectors can carry out unannounced visits under Ontario’s Animals for Research Act.
The university said its facilities have passed recent unannounced inspections under provincial legislation. However, it is not clear from publicly available information how often compliance issues arise or how they are resolved — in Ontario in general, nor specifically at Queen’s.
Transparency and public perception
Despite the safeguards, questions remain about how transparent the system is to the public. The university agreed to the interview with Winterborn, and the data on animal use in research is easily found on its website, but access to facilities and visual documentation was limited.
Asked what he would tell people concerned about transparency, Winterborn pointed out that the data is there.
“We are, to my knowledge, the only university that releases that data on our website… down to the species level,” he said.
However, much of the day-to-day reality of research is not easily visible to the public.
Even basic elements, such as images of animals in research settings, are largely absent from public-facing materials. The website provides visitors with images that “provide an insight into the different spaces that can be found within an animal facility,” but those spaces are largely devoid of animals at the time the photos were taken.
Winterborn pointed to peer-reviewed scientific publications as a key source of public information, stating that “all of the research that would be conducted at Queen’s is published within peer-reviewed literature, and so that information is within the public domain, as well.”
But for many people, those materials — often highly technical and written for specialist audiences — may offer limited insight into what actually happens inside research facilities, raising questions about not just what information is available, but how accessible and understandable it is to the public.
While the university has taken steps to share information about its animal research practices, opportunities for direct access remain limited, leaving much of that work described rather than independently observed.
In an effort to provide visual information, Kingstonist requested permission to visit the on-campus facilities where the animals live. A tour was ultimately not granted. After followup, the university provided the four images in this article: one photo of a dog, one of a macaque, and two of an enclosure.
The interview process itself was also structured. The Director of Communications remained on the line during the interview with the university’s head veterinarian — an arrangement that is not common for reporters when covering Queen’s University.
A policy shift — and a broader debate
The renewed attention on animal research comes as the Ontario government considers legislation that would restrict invasive research on dogs and cats. The proposed changes, known as Bill 75, would not eliminate animal research in Ontario, but would instead limit its use for those specific companion animals while maintaining much of the existing oversight framework.
Ontario Premier Doug Ford has framed the issue in stark terms.
“You aren’t going to use pets — cats or dogs — to experiment any longer. Simple as that… It’s cruel, and it’s not acceptable… They’re part of our families,” Ford said.
During debate in the legislature, MPPs similarly emphasized that many Ontarians view dogs and cats as family members and believe they should not be subjected to invasive research. The issue was last raised at Queen’s Park during second reading debate on Tuesday, Mar. 24, 2026.
But that sole focus on pets or companion animals also raises questions.
Udo Schüklenk, who holds the Ontario Research Chair in Bioethics, also works at Queen’s. He has questioned whether it is justifiable to protect certain animals while continuing to use others, warning that restricting research on dogs and cats could lead to unintended consequences, including a shift toward increased use of other species, such as primates.
At the same time, Schüklenk has acknowledged that animal research has contributed to significant medical advances and that alternatives are not always sufficient to replace it entirely.
For now, animal research in Ontario continues under existing laws, even as the province weighs potential changes. At Queen’s, Winterborn stressed that the university “supports robust animal welfare protections and transparent oversight.”
He is closely monitoring the proposed legislation, but it remains unclear how it might affect ongoing work. The university has warned that if the hemophilia dog research program were forced to shut down due to legislative changes, “the entire colony would have to be humanely killed — a heartbreaking outcome for the dogs, the researchers and staff who care for them, and the invaluable research progress that has been made.”
In the years ahead, institutions like Queen’s are likely to face increased pressure not only to justify the use of animals in research but also to provide clearer insight into how those decisions are made and who is accountable for them. For the public, the issue comes down to trust: in the people conducting the research, and in the completeness of the information being shared.
