Our two-year investigation into captive tigers in America sent us through 32 U.S. states—with some truly disturbing experiences. But as the deadline for our National Geographic story loomed, I still needed a powerful, hopeful image.

(Captive tigers in the U.S. outnumber those in the wild. It’s a problem.)

When we began our reporting in 2017—Sharon, writing; me photographing; and our son, Nick Ruggia, filming—more tigers likely lived in cages in the U.S. than remained in the wild. Estimates ranged from 5,000 to 10,000, but with lax government oversight, no one knew for sure. There was no federal law regulating big-cat ownership.

Roadside zoos that allowed tourists to cuddle and shoot selfies with cubs were at the root of what’s been called a U.S. tiger crisis. Captive-bred cats often ended up in the illegal wildlife trade. To maintain a constant supply of babies, tigresses were forced to churn out litter after litter. Cubs, wrenched from their mothers at birth, were fed poorly and handled by hundreds of people. When they grew too big and dangerous to pet at around 12 weeks, cubs became breeders, were put on display, or simply disappeared. Many of these venues passed themselves off as sanctuaries. At least one made a million dollars or more in annual revenue.

(Suffering unseen: The dark truth behind wildlife tourism)

Zigzagging the country, we interviewed hundreds of people for the story, including owners, workers, and customers at both roadside zoos and true sanctuaries, as well as wildlife biologists, conservationists, prosecutors, and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service agents. Sometimes we went undercover, sometimes not.

We filmed and photographed cub petting at run-down zoos, a high-end safari show, an Illinois county fair, and an Oklahoma living room. We saw sick, skeletal tigers—some scarred, cross-eyed, or disabled—living in squalid quarters. We discovered illicit activities, including animal abuse, donations used for personal profit, and wildlife trafficking, which drives poaching of the last wild tigers.

Sharon corresponded with Joe Exotic, the infamous “Tiger King” who’s now serving a 21-year sentence for murder for hire and falsifying criminal records, as well as killing and trafficking tigers at his former G.W. Exotic Animal Park in Oklahoma. I spent nine days photographing Bhagavan “Doc” Antle and his Myrtle Beach Safari attraction. In June 2023 Antle was convicted of felony wildlife trafficking and conspiring to traffic in wildlife.

While we documented the underbelly of this industry, we also wanted to show the best life these magnificent apex predators—unable to be released into the wild—could have in captivity. With two weeks left before my deadline, I headed to the Wild Animal Sanctuary near Denver, where well-nurtured cats roam acres of habitat.

There I met Clay, Daniel, and Enzo, three of 39 tigers rescued from Joe Exotic’s former zoo. These huge, nearly grown cats frolicked, racing beside our ATV as we drove the fence line and sparring on their hind legs—behavior I’d seen only in wild tigers.

(How this ‘camera car’ captured the perfect tiger close-up)

It was a steamy July day, and soon two of the cats jumped into a stock tank to cool off. The third settled beside them on the ground. I crossed the road to shoot pictures of another tiger, framed by a patchwork of blue sky and gray clouds, with the last rays from the sun streaming through as it dipped behind the Rocky Mountains.

Then I heard my assistant loud-whisper, “Steve, you said you wanted a rainbow. You got one!” I crawled back toward the trio, trying not to disturb them, and slipped my lens through the fence. The third cat laid its head against the tank, and I had the shot: three contented tigers, framed by a rainbow.

When the story ran in 2019, members of Congress who’d sponsored legislation regulating big cats received a copy. Three years later, the Big Cat Public Safety Act became law, prohibiting private ownership in most circumstances and public hands-on contact. The U.S. cub-petting industry is now a thing of the past.