I married young. My wife and I were fond of animals and had quite a few.
I was a drunk, and ashamed to admit it. One night coming home from the bar, Pluto the cat - the only animal I hadn't abused - got to finally feel my anger. He was my best friend and I thought he was avoiding me. Full of anger, I grabbed my pocket knife and jabbed out his eye.
I thought I had forgot about my wrong doing, but soon my disease got to me. Grief filled me, my wife hated me, and I couldn't look at Pluto without the reminder, so I hung him.
That night the house set on fire but everyone was safe. In the morning I went to the scene only to find a single wall still standing. On that wall, was a silhouette of a cat with a rope around its neck.
When looking for our rental house, I met a stray cat perfectly resembling Pluto. He even didn't have an eye. His only fault was a white strip of fur around its neck that looked like a noose. Because of this, my wife fell in love with it, so it stayed. I however, hated the cat and avoided it at all costs. One day the cat followed my wife and I down to the basement and nearly tripped me. In anger I grabbed an axe and swung, but my blow was intercepted by my wife, who fell to the ground dead.
I had to think of where to hide the body. I thought through some options and decided to hide her in the wall. Soon, the cops came to investigate. I took them down to the basement with my ego strong.