When I was really little, like just walking, I remember stepping on a kitten's neck. I didn't know any better. Dad took the kitten away
and found it a safer home. Which is exactly what he should have done.
Later on, there was a hamster. I found him hanging from his tail off the top of his cage one morning. "The hamster committed suicide," my mother said and laughed.
I thought that I had a duckling also. But it turned out to be one of those fake memory things, a confabulation I think rather than a traumatic thing. Part of it was accurate though. I "remember" releasing the duckling (that never was) in a pond. Dad and I used to go to that pond to feed the ducks-- just not any duckling that I ever had which I didn't.
sapphoq on life