Staff Reports
Virginia politics just served up a new oddity: an official voting‑rights restoration certificate that appears to have been mailed in the name “Biscuit Rigsby” — a family dog who, according to the owner, died years ago. Republican Del. Tom Garrett made the document public and demanded an independent probe. Governor Abigail Spanberger’s office insists it did not restore a dog’s rights and says the record is tied to a person with a date of birth and Social Security number. Either way, this is a mess that deserves answers now.
The Biscuit Rigsby certificate — the facts
The certificate shown by Del. Tom Garrett carries the Commonwealth seal and a signature block bearing Governor Abigail Spanberger’s name. Garrett says the dog’s owner confirmed the paper’s authenticity and that Biscuit died about five years ago. The governor’s office responded that the administration did not restore the rights of an animal and that the underlying record is linked to a human with a DOB and SSN. Independent fact‑checking shows the document is real and dated weeks before it was publicized, but the reason “Biscuit Rigsby” appears on the mailing remains unexplained.
Why this matters: competence, accuracy, and trust
This isn’t about poking fun at a sweet pet. It’s about a state program that restored tens of thousands of civil rights and then began mailing certificates with odd, duplicate, or erroneous names. Virginia has already acknowledged earlier mail‑merge problems. When the state’s system spits out a dead dog or a “Betty No Last Name,” it raises big questions: what data feeds the list, how are records reviewed, and could sloppy paperwork lead to voter‑roll errors down the line? Virginians deserve the simple assurance that machines and clerks get this right.
What should happen next
Del. Garrett’s call for an independent audit is reasonable. Officials should preserve the records, show the data trail that produced the “Biscuit Rigsby” entry, and disclose whether any certificates led to registrations or ballots cast under bad names. Secretary Candi Mundon King’s office, which oversees restorations, must provide mailing dates, mail‑merge logs, and the database export that produced the list. FOIA requests and a hard audit are practical next steps if the administration truly wants to restore confidence.
At the end of the day, this is not a comedy sketch. If Virginia’s restoration program can accidentally put a dog on the books, then something in the process is broken. Gov. Abigail Spanberger can insist it wasn’t a dog all she likes, but a clear, public accounting is the only fix that will quiet reasonable concerns. Fix the process or be prepared to answer why a dead family pet ended up in state correspondence about voting rights.
