Several years ago I killed a love bird with bug spray. For years I blocked this memory out of my mind, until I got on Tinder where I would occasionally use it for shock value. I remember my sister saying, kids who harm animals and insects have a tendency to… you know…become CEOs. No, that’s not what she said. She said murderers. And that stayed with me. Every time I saw an insect I would get the urge to play with it, but I would actively try to avoid it. I put myself in the insect’s shoes. I don’t like to be touched, then why would the insect be any different? Over the years my mom introduced me to cats, fishes, ducks, basically a farm situation. Cut to highschool. A puppy wanders in to the garage. Starts letting out loud but tiny barks, probably calling for its mother. We wait for the mother, we go out looking for her. Nobody arrives. My mom tries to feed it to no success. My grandmother tries to reason with it, to which she is met with extreme ghosting. I come into the picture and I kid you not, this little black fur ball comes out of her hiding spot and hides behind my feet. That was it. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship (she tried to kill me a couple of times, but it was mostly friendship).
I guess this whole fucking post was just an excuse to post a picture of my dog.