attention fans of kittensv
- Thread starter Will Bozarth
- Start date
Nightshade
Blonde to the bone
I suppose putting them in a bag, kicking them down a street, letting my dogs have at them for a bit, then setting them on fire is out of the question? We could put it out before they actually die, and then let them go through the burn treatment process, if that would help at all....
kerrys wear boots
technoviking
people are fucking sick. what would posess anyone to do something like that??
"I feel a lot of pain, I feel sorrow, I know what it went through," said Turanicza.
^but that gave me the image of a woman in a bag on fire, so
"I feel a lot of pain, I feel sorrow, I know what it went through," said Turanicza.
^but that gave me the image of a woman in a bag on fire, so
El Stormo
Member
Those kids should be beaten to within an inch of their life. Anyone who purposely inflicts pain on other living beings for the sole purpose of enjoyment is not worthy of life.
schenkadere
Obey my dog!
Kvlt Wench
sews no mercy
Cephalopod
The Secrecies of Horror
What.the.fuck. I've never been able to understand why people want to be retarded to animals. Fuckers. 
metalkingdom
the kinder, gentler me
- Jan 1, 2005
- 1,634
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Stormrider1981 said:
Well.....that's a little harsh. There are people that will pay good money to have someone inflict pain on them.
neal
wizard in black
i like kittensv. kittensv are very cute and furry. kittensv are cuddly and fun to play with.
kittensv.
kittensv.
Super Mahrio
Deeply Horrible Person
Captain Beard
No longer active
- Sep 6, 2001
- 28,010
- 99
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Nightshade
Blonde to the bone
As I understand it, the personality that would do something like that is "warming up". They're either a full-blown sociopath or they've got strong sociopathic tendencies. They start with insects and animals and work their way up to people. This is why "they" (you know -- "them") have started paying more attention to the animal cruelty cases. Sometimes you can teach even a sociopath to respect rules and limits. Not often, but sometimes.Captain Beard said:Why would someone do this?
Kvlt Wench
sews no mercy
Lord Foul
I don't spank men
Nightshade
Blonde to the bone
Kvlt Wench said:
That reminds me of a poem:
Do I Go Home Today ?
By: S. Thompson
My family brought me home cradled in their arms.
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.
They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.
The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats
They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say.
These are the things I'll not forget - a cherished memory,
because I now live in the shelter - without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.
This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't time.
I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.
They brought me to the shelter but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,
then I would be the dog they want when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left." I heard the worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance? ....
DO I GO HOME TODAY?
By: S. Thompson
My family brought me home cradled in their arms.
They cuddled me and smiled at me and said I was full of charm.
They played with me and laughed with me and showered me with toys.
I sure do love my family, especially the girls and boys.
The children loved to feed me, they gave me special treats
They even let me sleep with them - all snuggled in the sheets.
I used to go for walks, often several times a day.
They even fought to hold the leash, I'm very proud to say.
These are the things I'll not forget - a cherished memory,
because I now live in the shelter - without my family.
They used to laugh and praise me when I played with that old shoe.
But I didn't know the difference between the old ones and the new.
The kids and I would grab a rag, for hours we would tug.
So I thought I did the right thing when I chewed the bedroom rug.
They said that I was out of control, and would have to live outside.
This I did not understand, although I tried and tried.
The walks stopped, one by one; they said they hadn't time.
I wish that I could change things, I wish I knew my crime.
My life became so lonely, in the back yard, on a chain.
They brought me to the shelter but were embarrassed to say why.
They said I caused an allergy, then they each kissed me goodbye.
If I'd only had some classes, when I was just a little pup,
then I would be the dog they want when I was all grown up.
"You only have one day left." I heard the worker say.
Does that mean I have a second chance? ....
DO I GO HOME TODAY?
Kvlt Wench
sews no mercy
El Stormo
Member
kerrys wear boots
technoviking
Nightshade said:That reminds me of a poem:
Do I Go Home Today ?
By: S. Thompson
that sounds kinda like this one (written by Jim Willis):
When I was a puppy I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub.
My housetraining took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed, listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."
As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them, especially their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be.
I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams. Together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being your dog to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now you have a new career opportunity in another city and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog or cat, even one with "papers."
You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.
After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.
I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table, rubbed my ears and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. With my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not meant for her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever.
May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
