What can be said about this story that isn’t painfully, heartbreakingly obvious? The real tragedy wasn’t the needless death of these animals, it was the life they had to endure. I guess I’m just unable to understand the attraction or the requisite arrogance to own a menagerie. I can’t even own more than one cat . . .
As a novelist, I’m always operating in a partially-veiled fantasy world, sometimes even world hopping as my day progresses. It’s a nice way to spend the mundane hours. Every once in a while though, I like to receive some kind of justification that my fiction has an actual counterpoint in this reality, something that makes . . .