Making room for pets at home

When I turned 20 I got a dog, Bush. That was his name. A big cuddly German shepherd. Then my brother came home with a cat that he had rescued from the street. We should have known that a cat and a dog, in this case Bush and Mia, could not live together. Bush ate Mia┬áin the end in full sight of the family. With no shame at all. He tore her apart and went back to his kennel smacking his lips. Savage. He died months later quietly in the night. Karma. Continue reading “Making room for pets at home”