Taj Uppal was gearing up to begin his legal career after moving back to Arizona in September 2025. He received a job offer in corporate law in March 2026, moved in with his grandparents, and was excited to begin his future in Phoenix.
But just about a week before he was set to begin his new job, he received a text message that upended his entire life.
Uppal, a lawyer, discovered that he had been charged with multiple felonies, including grand theft of livestock, conspiracy to commit a crime, and trespassing for his activist work before he left California. Since then, his life has turned into one court battle after another, all for about 10 minutes of activism.
Saving the goats
A year earlier, on May 27, Uppal and five other activists who are part of Direct Action Everywhere, an animal activism group, walked onto Vera Goat Dairy in Kings County, California, after reports of animal cruelty. The farm had been in trouble before, according to Uppal. In 2021, California’s government cited the farm for goat remains found on the property. However, the Fresno Bee reported that subsequent investigations found no evidence of animal mistreatment.
Uppal walked onto the farm feeling determined and slightly fearful, he said, but believed he had a legal right to rescue the animals from the industrialized farm, pointing to a 2023 legal opinion from a former California federal prosecutor, Bonnie Klapper, who argued that under California law, a “necessity defense” justifies rescuing animals suffering on factory farms.
Uppal also pointed to both Arizona and California law, that say it is legal to break the window of a car in order to help a child or animal if they appear to be in “imminent danger.”
That’s why Uppal and fellow activists made the decision to walk onto the farm and potentially save some animals on a rather regular Tuesday morning, where they saw hundreds of goats cramped into pens and confined in the barn.
“The main emotion I felt there is just sadness,” Uppal said. “Sad for the animals that are being confined in this manner and how they’re suffering, and also just sadness for humanity, because I really do believe that humanity is better than this, and we shouldn’t be treating our fellow creatures this way.”
The rescue itself was rather tame, Uppal explained. They didn’t have to break in or sneak their way in—they even waved at some of the workers before walking directly to the goats. When they saw two sick goats in particular—whom they later named Phoebe and Celia—they rushed to rescue them, worried the pair would end up dead.
Uppal and a fellow activist with the two goats on May 27, 2025. Photo courtesy of Taj Uppal.
The group walked off the farm and immediately took the goats to a veterinary office, where the vet said the pair had shown signs of infection and emaciation, according to Uppal.
In a desire to rescue more, the group returned to the farm about an hour later, Uppal said, where they were met by local police officers who had been alerted of the situation. Uppal said he had a rather “respectful conversation” between the sheriff’s deputy, Dakotah Fausnett, explaining to him what happened before asking if they could go back onto the farm and potentially assist more animals.
But Fausnett wasn’t sympathetic.
“Make sure it’s a fucking felony,” Fausnett said in police camera footage to a fellow officer when gathering information at the scene.
Uppal was instructed to put his hands behind his back, taken to a police vehicle where he sat and waited for about two hours. With nothing to do but to think, Uppal could only think about his mother, worried how she would react to news that her son was in jail.
Though, he got lucky—jail never came. The officer released him, and Uppal believed things were over. He took a step back from activism, too, even declining a job at an animal law clinic.
About 10 months later in March, he received a message that would change his life—the county was pressing charges. Kings County District Attorney Sarah Hacker charged Uppal and fellow activists with grand theft of livestock, conspiracy to commit a crime and trespassing. The consequences are steep, and Uppal is at risk of facing six and a half years in prison.
Return to Arizona
A lifelong Arizonan, Uppal only left the Valley to attend law school at UC Berkeley, where he graduated with his law degree before becoming a registered lawyer in California, and then again in Arizona. He returned in September 2025 to begin his professional life, but in March 2026, the job offers were revoked once the charges came down.
For the last few months, Uppal has had to fly back and forth to California to attend court hearings, and paid approximately $20,000 in attorney’s fees.
A felony conviction carries up to six and a half years in prison and would trigger State Bar disciplinary proceedings that could result in suspension or disbarment.
His family has suffered the worst of it. His mother, fearing he will get a harsh sentence, has pleaded with Uppal to start exercising, so that he can defend himself in prison in the event he is sexually abused by fellow inmates.
“I carry a lot of guilt knowing that because of actions I’ve taken. It’s a risk that I chose to take on, but it’s not a risk that my family consented to,” Uppal said. “When I suffer, they suffer.”
Charges seen as a warning
Uppal was charged four days after another rescue took place at Ridglan Farms in Wisconsin, a dog-breeding and research facility in Wisconsin accused of animal cruelty, including eye surgeries performed on beagles without anesthesia.
On March 15, 2026, about 50 activists broke into the facility and removed 23 beagles. A month later, on April 18, an estimated 1,000 protesters attempted a second raid, in which officers and guards fired tear gas and rubber bullets to keep the crowd from entering the facility, but failed. Ridglan later agreed to give up its breeding license, and roughly 1,500 of its beagles were purchased and rehomed by animal welfare groups.
But Ridglan Farms is far from Vera farms, leading Uppal to believe the charges are proactive, meant to scare off further activists from helping animals.
“The industry saw that we had this very successful rescue effort in Wisconsin, and they got worried that similar activities would be happening in California,” Uppal said. “So they decided to bring the hammer down on us here and now, and that’s why they charged us with these really aggressive charges.”
In court, the prosecutor asked for Uppal — who has never been convicted of any crime — to wear an ankle monitor from the outset. Uppal hasn’t been offered any misdemeanor plea deals either, which is unusual for a first-time offender.
Uppal says the penalties are disproportionate to the crime committed.
“We didn’t hurt anyone. We didn’t damage any property, and we’re in and out of the confinement area within about 10 minutes, and rescued two baby goats,” Uppal said. “At the very worst, what happened on that day is that $300 worth of merchandise was stolen from this company, and that’s putting aside the entire moral dimension of aiding a suffering animal.”
Uppal’s defense attorneys filed a motion asking Hacker to recuse herself, alleging a conflict of interest in the prosecution. In court documents, the defense claims Hacker previously represented a predecessor entity to Vera Goat Dairy while working in private practice. The filing also points to public 2022 campaign records showing Hacker received $3,000 from Milk Flow Dairy, a company associated with the current dairy operation.
In an Aug. 19 email, Hacker said she is unable to respond due to a professional rule by the bar association prohibiting attorneys from speaking on an issue as the topic relates to an active motion.
“A criminal defendant may speak with the press regarding their case and they may present their side of the case to you,” Hacker said. “As much as I would like to respond to your questions, my answers would fall outside of the parameters set forth.”
She added her office does intend on filing an opposition to the motion, and plans on litigating the matter in court.
At an Aug. 25 hearing, a judge will consider motions in the case. His entire life hangs in the balance, as does his future legal career, but Uppal said Phoebe and Celia remain safe in an animal sanctuary—thanks to his efforts.
“Factory farming is a great moral atrocity, and I feel very confident that future generations will look back upon what we’re doing to animals with great shame,” Uppal said. “There’s billions of animals who are suffering, deprived of the sun and sky, and treated like they’re just units of production. I am willing to sacrifice things in my life to oppose this system.”
