u/mai_himeshidou

So the story starts when I was around 11 years old and my cousin (my tau-tai's daughter, they lived a floor above ours) got a German Shepherd as a pet. Being a kid, I wanted one too, even if it was a stray from outside. My parents disagreed—my mother was tired because she saw how my cousin didn't take care of her pet, and my father because the upper floor had a dog and bringing a stray or another dog would be dangerous for that dog. Her name was Daisy and she was the charm of my heart. I was there when they bought her, I went with them when they took her to a trainer, I was there when she was sick, and she eventually died in my arms.

For a few months, my cousin took care of her food, taking her out for a walk, etc. Then slowly, the responsibilities shifted to her father and my father, until they decided letting her poop on the terrace and getting it cleaned was better. After a few years, my cousin went to college, leaving Daisy behind. And they never spayed her; she gave birth I think twice (I don't remember) until she couldn't, when they decided to keep her daughter, Cherry, who was the money-printing machine. Eventually, they decided to keep her son, Mac, so that they could save money on a breeder. One dog was a responsibility, three were a hassle.

At a point—I think I was in high school by this time—these dogs were fed daliya, sometimes meat. Other than Daisy, no one was trained properly. They pooped on the terrace, and it was cleaned weekly. Each pup went for around 10k. Cherry gave birth 4–5 times, and then they decided having a Beagle was much more profitable, so they got Tasha. What a sweet child, left in the care of people who couldn't be bothered. One scenario always comes to my mind: when she was trying to pull a cloth from under a tire and broke a tooth. I told my uncle to check, but instead, he didn't even open her mouth and left her be. She got an infection which needed treatment the next day.

Daisy died in my arms because her owners didn't notice her having maggots in her wounds. Cherry died birthing too many kids. Tasha died because they didn't bother to Google whether feeding her a raw potato was poisonous or not. Mac still remains, abandoned because they shifted into a flat (their own, by the way) and "couldn't possibly keep him."

As an adult, 10 years later, I still remember them. And now that I'm a proud cat mom, I know how they death was pure negligence and the greed of a few humans. I still remember the hate I felt for my cousin who came after Daisy's death and cried like she was heartbroken (she came for a Diwali break) and forbade any celebration in the house, but a few days later was fine partying with her friends. I still hear about and see owners who don't care for their pets, and my god, just don't get one if you can't—don't make them suffer so much. The worst part is, no matter what these guys did to those four, they would wag their tails and be excited to see them return home.

Sorry for the long rant.

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