He Killed My Kitty... And Other Stories About How Abusers Affect Pets

This post features short stories submitted by survivors across the country who had pets that were abused or had their abuser use their pets as a way to control them while in a violent relationship. We Are HER partnered with Tank, the Ambassadog of Pet Project of La Salle County to raise awareness for furry friends who have been victims of violence. My Cats and I Were Both Victims of His ViolenceHe became jealous over the attention I gave to my cats. When he was mad at me or feeling insecure, he’d say “You love those cats more than you love me.” He started to really hate them. He began staying up later than I did. I’d wake up to the sound of a strange meow (you know your pets and you know what’s strange). When I’d go check on them, the cats would be terrified in a corner and he’d be watching TV as if nothing was happening. He start d to do this often and it caused a lot of anxiety for me. I couldn’t go to bed until he did because I was worried about what was happening....but couldn’t “prove” anything to myself. My girl kitty started to pee in the house. In hindsight, I know it’s because he was hurting her. I woke up once and her face was swollen, he didn’t know what happened. Then one day she was gone when I got home. He said she got outside. I looked for her all night. I found her the next day dead on the side of the road right by my house. She hadn’t been run over. There was no explanation for her death, no blood. Later my boy cat came to me dragging his front leg. Again my abuser didn’t know what happened. I took him into the vet and discovered his leg had been pulled. The vet said he could have caught it on something so that’s what I convinced myself had happened. I didn’t want to believe a human could hurt a kitty like that.Many people wonder why I didn’t end it after my intuition was screaming out that something was off between him and my pets. But I was emotionally beat down and insecure. I was a shell of myself. I didn’t know it was abuse, I didn’t know I deserved more. I also didn’t want to end it because I feared he’d kill the cats out of anger. He controlled me through fear and anxiety.He Used My Dog Against MeMy abuser used our dog to hurt me. He knows how much I love animals. So toward the end, as I was finally realizing I had to leave, he'd take the dog with him every morning and leave her at a friend's house (someone I now understand he was triangulating me with). He said he didn't trust me, which was ridiculous and hurtful because of how much I love animals.The morning I left, I was sitting up in bed and our doggy was pressed tightly up against me, shaking. My abuser kept calling for her but she wouldn't come to him, and I was not holding or even petting her when he was calling for her. She seemed frightened.He came in the room and took her and said he was doing so because at least he knew she'd be safe and cared for while he was out.By then I'd read enough about emotional abuse to understand what he was doing. I just said ok, and goodbye very softly.That last memory will always be with me. It stings, but understanding about psychopathy now makes it easier to feel the sting at the memory and move through it, feeling sorry for my abuser instead of for myself. He Shot Our Dog with An Air Soft GunAfter I left my abuser someone told me he has shot our dog with an air soft gun to shut him up.Dogs Understand UsI don’t have much to share as far as pets enduring abuse, but I can say my dog, Pepper, is always so good to me when I am having a bad day. I remember when I first moved back home, crying on the couch, she came over and nuzzled me and gave me doggy kisses.He Told Me I Was a "Terrible Puppy Mom"I remember being so excited the night I picked out my puppy. He’s my best friend. But I didn’t realize on the night I got him that my abuser would use him as a tool to control my life. My dog, who is a frantic ball of anxiety—especially around men—was still under a year the first time my abuser used him against me. He worked during the evening and I had the typical 9-5 job. I took my puppy for a walk to the dog park, and then hurried to my friend’s house. We were going to see a comedy show together. It was only an hour-long show. But just as I got to her house, my boyfriend called me asking me where did I think I was going leaving our puppy alone. Clearly, I was a “terrible puppy mom” for deserting him. I bawled my eyes out in my friend’s front yard and told her that he was right: my pup shouldn’t be alone for an hour. His words stung. I believed him that I was an awful new owner to our pup. When my pup had grown into a dog, I got a new job. My new coworkers invited me out for a drink. I texted my boyfriend that I would be home late. I was excited to socialize with these ladies. One sip in, and he kept calling me over and over and over. I didn’t answer and texted him to remind him that I was out. But he kept calling and sending me rude messages about how my dog was going to starve since dinner would be late or how he better not be home before me or there would be hell to pay. I excused myself to answer his phone call in the bathroom where those same stinging words came up: “you’re a terrible puppy mom.” I cried again. Those words made my stomach sink. They also hurt because I knew I raised “our” dog alone. He was unemployed for a bit, and I naively assumed he’d use his freetime to take our pup to the park or teach him new tricks. Everyday I would come home to find out he had let our high-energy pup lay in bed all day with him without any exercise. But yet I was the bad puppy parent.