In 1990 we went to the pet shop to get a new cat for my sister. She ended up getting a black and white one who she named Mistie.
I was 8 then. I really liked the cat but everyone cared for her more than me so I got kind of jealous of her. I tried to poison her a few times with spray stuff but it never worked. I also tried to strangle her with a rope. I tried to suffocate her and even tried to stab her. When I stabbed her then all that happened is that it got her in the instestines and made her poop some how.
After awhile I didnt touch her like that anymore because I didnt want to kill an animal. I did hurt her alot and bang her head in the wall and stuff like that.
She was stupid and still came near after everything that happened to her but I didnt hurt her then.
THIS PART WILL MAKE YOU MAD/SAD/UPSET WHATEVER.
At around 2:30pm on October 23 1997(I was 17)I was playing with Mistie and out of the blue got the urge to stab her again. So I got her and a knife and brought her into the bathroom. Her owner Suzie was babysitting and my other sister was downstairs so I hoped she wouldnt come. I layed the poor cat down on the floor in the bathroom and jabbed the knife in her side lightly and then took it off. There was only a bit of blood on the knife. She got up and ran to the door and I got her again and stabbed her harder and this time she meowed. She got up and there was all this blood leaking out of her side all over the floor! I hated doing that and dont know why I did. She meowed and scratched at the door trying to get out and then she kind of moaned low pitch and slid down the wall trying to breathe. I didnt know what to do since I was all pannicky. I washed the knife off alot and put it in the dishwasher. Brenda(the other sister)came upstairs and saw Mistie laying there and I told her she was outside laying in the grass and she said to go call a vet while she tried to stop the bleeding and I did that. After she wrapped the cat in a towel I took her to the vet. These people in a van saw and took us the rest of the way to the vet. After a few minutes a nurse came out and said the five dreaded words "Your cat didnt make it". Doh doh doh..hmmm whos fault was it? I wonder...whos the bitch who was holding the knife?
After everyone in my family knew about it I told them that she was attacked by a dog because even the vet said there were two teeth marks in her but I knew what it really was.
The day after I buried her and even gave her a little pillow to sleep on and covered her with a small blanket and gave her her favorite toy. Then we put small flowers on her grave.
A week later our other cat Rascal ran away probably because he was depressed that Mistie was gone. He always used to bug her and jump on her and stuff so he must of went to find her. Our third cat Star was still living and still is. She is almost 11.
Everytime we talked about Mistie dying I wanted to tell them what really happened but didnt bother. Then on April 8 1999 I finally did. They were actually not mad for what happened for some stupid reason.
After about a year and a half I finally "let the skeletons out of the closet". Im glad I finally told them and Im getting help too. I dont remember why I did it but I know I did.
I am never going to touch another animal with a knife again.
