Only one crime of passion would take me to prison. (Or as we say in the Mountain South, "the pen." My grandma once described a friend in this way--"poor ol' thang. Her man's in the pen.")
My felony would be for blowing the head off someone who abuses children or animals.
Pets are not just interchangeable and disposable "companions." They are members of our families.
Yeah, I'm crazy. I own it. But watch out if you're whooping on a dog or neglecting a cat. This gimp might be gunning for you soon.
Hit the post title for a Thanksgiving story I can rally to--the feeding of turkey and trimmings to dogs rescued from puppy mills.
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