I thought that was unusual because my mother usually didn't care where I was going.

When I was nine my family had two white cats; Timmy and Tammy. I was Timmy's person and everywhere I was he was; this was the first time I had ever loved anything so much that it could hurt. Timmy was my comfort at night when my parents were yelling and my shelter from bad dreams. We also had bunnies; I am not sure how my little sister and I convinced our Dad to let us get some bunnies for Easter but there they were on Easter morning, two little bunnies. I called mine Joseph, he was wild bunny brown, my sister named hers Spooky because he was all black; we soon found out that Spooky was the perfect name for him because he was "spooked" at everything. My father had made a sturdy bunny pen up against the house in our backyard; they were out of the elements and we didn't have to worry about freezing weather in Pasadena. Joseph and Timmy became fast friends and would chase each other around the pen my father made for the bunnies. If Joseph were out in his pen and he wanted to play he would make this high pitched cry and Timmy would come running. The first time Joseph made this noise my father and I thought he was dying but soon figured out what he was doing. After a good run around Timmy and Joseph would lick each other and then nap. I loved my Timmy and my Joseph. One morning I decided I wanted to head down the street to visit the animals at the pet store, my mother was all for this and was rushing me out of the house; I thought that was unusual because my mother usually didn't care where I was going. La la la out the front door I went and was stopped by Timmy in the front yard, licking something?? I opened the gate (our front yard had a rickety white picket fence) and saw Timmy licking a fur. "Oh Timmy you found a fur" I said and went over to see; to my horror it wasn't just any fur but Joseph's, he was torn apart. I know I screamed, I know it was loud and that it lasted a very long time. I ran crying, Timmy followed; he had blood on his mouth. My mother was yelling at my brother (he was living with us now, his father had died) for not picking up Joseph when she had asked. My father came in and told me what had happened; the night before he heard loud noises by the rabbit pen and went out to see a pack of dogs tearing at the bunny pen, he didn't know what happened to Spooky but he saw one of the dogs with Joseph. He scared the dogs away but it was too late for my bunny.