So… I used to have a dog when I was little. Literally the sweetest dog I’ve ever had. I always played with him and he’d sleep in my bed. Overall, I loved him a lot. However, my parents separated and my dad got the dog (and I lived with him for the time being). He remarried, and the woman didn’t feel safe around the dog (he was a pitbull). So, she would always keep him caged up unless he went outside for the bathroom. Because of this he became inactive, seemed less happy, and developed a slight limp. I was in second grade at the time, and now I feel so goddamn guilty for not speaking out against it. When caged, I would barely acknowledge him and stopped spending time with him cause god knows why. He eventually died for other reasons (he swallowed his pillow stuffing). I really can’t get over how I did nothing when he was being mistreated, I’m a s*** human.

• Share on Facebook