An Australian woman who drove while disqualified to flee her violent partner—after he threatened to kill her dog—has had her charges dismissed, in a case that exposes the harrowing decisions survivors often face when help fails to arrive.
The Guardian reports that the woman, referred to as ESC, was intercepted by Queensland police in February and charged with driving offences. But the Gympie Magistrates Court found she was acting under an “extraordinary emergency” as she fled an ongoing pattern of domestic abuse. Her former partner’s threat to kill her dog was the final trigger in a long history of violence, intimidation, and psychological degradation.
The court recognised that her actions were not an act of defiance, but a desperate attempt to protect herself and her dog from imminent danger.
“Extraordinary Emergency”
The court accepted unchallenged evidence that ESC had experienced physical violence, verbal abuse, property damage, false accusations, and deliberate efforts by her partner to isolate her and destroy her self-worth. The threat to her dog—her companion and emotional support—was not an isolated outburst. It was part of a broader pattern of coercive control.
Magistrate Hughes explicitly recognised that threatening a pet is a well-known tactic in abusive dynamics. She added that the threat wasn’t just to the dog, but also to ESC’s “own mental and emotional wellbeing” [via Women’s Agenda].
Despite this, police prosecuting the case argued that ESC’s behaviour didn’t seem panicked enough and that she should have called for help or driven to the nearest police station. The magistrate rejected this suggestion as unrealistic and detached from the realities of trauma.
Magistrate Hughes noted that people in crisis should not be condemned for the decisions they make in the “agony of the moment,” and that it was reasonable for an ordinary person to act as ESC did under such pressure.
Why Victims Don’t Always Call for Help
The case reveals a painful truth for many survivors: calling the police does not always mean getting help. ESC told the court that on a previous occasion she had called authorities—and waited more than six hours for officers to arrive.
This experience eroded her trust that the system would protect her. When her dog’s life was threatened, she didn’t wait. She fled.
Magistrate Hughes acknowledged that the quality of police response varies and that ESC’s loss of faith in receiving help was “honest and reasonable,” especially after previously waiting over six hours for officers to attend.
This is the gap that victims often fall through. When police responses are slow, inconsistent, or dismissive, survivors feel forced to take matters into their own hands—risking legal consequences for trying to stay alive.
Coercive Control Isn’t Always Loud
This case also highlights the complexity of coercive control—a form of domestic abuse that doesn’t rely on visible bruises but on patterns of domination, isolation, and emotional exhaustion.
ESC’s partner didn’t need to assault her the night she fled. He only needed to issue a threat that she knew, from experience, could escalate. Her choice to leave was not impulsive. It was born of accumulated fear, deep isolation, and the knowledge that the systems around her couldn’t be relied on in a crisis.
The prosecution’s claim—that she didn’t seem frightened enough or that she could’ve asked police for help when pulled over—demonstrates a misunderstanding of trauma. Victims in survival mode may appear calm, disconnected, or compliant. These are normal responses to abnormal, threatening circumstances.
Pets, Power, and Psychological Warfare
Threats to animals are a powerful weapon in the abuser’s arsenal. They exploit the deep emotional bonds victims have with their pets, using them to instil fear, compliance, and silence.
In ESC’s case, her dog was both a source of love and stability and a target for cruelty. By threatening the animal, the abuser ensured that his victim remained off-balance and terrified of taking any action that might trigger his rage.
This form of abuse is widely underreported yet devastating. Many survivors stay in violent homes longer because they fear what will happen to their pets if they leave. Some shelters are unable to accommodate animals, further complicating the escape.
A Turning Point—or a One-Off?
While this ruling sets an important precedent, it also raises larger questions about how the justice system treats survivors. What happens to those who aren’t believed? Who don’t get a magistrate like Bevan Hughes? Who don’t have the legal knowledge or confidence to assert the defence of “extraordinary emergency”?
Too often, survivors are criminalised for their own acts of survival. They are told they should have stayed calm, followed procedures, or waited for help that never came. But as ESC’s case makes clear, sometimes survival means breaking a law to save your life—or your dog’s.
Until the system understands that it will continue to punish the people it was meant to protect.
Featured image: Police charge woman escaping abuse Source: Monkey Business / Adobe Stock.
