Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Petlife.
Jedd The Dog
"No, we're not getting a dog," I said bluntly. It wasn't because I didn't like dogs, I loved them, but as an eighteen year old, full-time student in his first rental home, getting a dog was not exactly a convenient choice. There was no way I was losing my bond money over soiled carpet and a dug-up yard. Emily, one of my three housemates, however, had other plans.
By J. R. Lowe4 years ago in Petlife
My Literal Lifesaver
I will always be right there for you, I long to be.. I will always be right there, Look over your shoulder.. you'll see me, 'Cause I've been praying.. I've been hoping.. Sitting here waiting for you.. I will always be right there, for you.. Right there.. Right there.. -Ramzi; Right There (song)
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Petlife
The Breakthrough
Ptsd is complicated, and navigating life alone can feel heavy. Options are slim. The military offers medication and therapy. But when you can't speak about it, how can you address it? And let's face it, medication, although helpful, can seem like avoidance. What about a service dog? Basically a dog trained to walk with you through life. Help you with the symptoms and harsh realities of life living with PTSD or MST ( post traumatic stress disorder or military sexual trauma).
By Randi henley 4 years ago in Petlife
Freya The Bark Goddess
Adorable, but frightened. That was my dog Freya when I first saw her at the humane society. The funny thing was they gave me the wrong pup when I first showed up and brought her out. She stood out from the rest with her colored eyes and unfortunately, she had ringworm. From the information I gathered her entire litter was left in a box during the rain. I wish I could have adopted them all, but I could only take Freya.
By Matthew Mccahey4 years ago in Petlife
The Kitten From the Sea
Long ago there was a kitten born on a boat. His eyes shone bright and blue like the sea on a sunny day. He has a curly white coat with an orange nose and an orange tail. This kitten had brothers and sisters and many feline friends to spend his days with if he chose, as the humans on the boat were not particularly pleasant. Each day the kitten climbed high into the sails, up to the skies and watched the boat journey on and on through the water. The kitten was not very fond of water he came to find, so being up high in the sails was his favorite spot to be. This kitten, who was later to be called Kimchee, became tired of the life at sea at a very early age. He just couldn’t get used to it. He was tired of hunting rats and mice to eat and never feeling completely satisfied if he could even catch one at all. He wasn’t that good at hunting. He was tired of raging sea storms that rocked the boat and sprayed cold, unforgiving sheets of water on to the decks. Kimchee often became seasick and lonely. He was thin and always very dirty. His brother and sister cats on the other hand, loved being on the boat. They had a sailers intuition just like the people down there did. They were gruff and tough and usually stayed below deck in the shadows. From the sails in the sunshine Kimchee watched the other cats as best he could. He watched the people, too. They all wore big heavy boots, striped shirts and had mean, tough voices. They were loud and wretched. One man had a hook for a hand, another wore an eyepatch and one time Kimchee even saw one of them force a man off of a plank. Yes- walked him straight off the plank with the tip of his big, shiny sword. Yes- this was a pirate ship. And a pirates’ life was NOT for Kimchee. The other cats loved the pirates and wanted to be just like them. They were independent and were one among the pirates. But Kimchee wanted the life of a house cat, which he had heard many tales of before late at night when he and his brothers and sisters were very little. He never forgot those stories of the house cat. He imagined himself a house cat. He dreamed of being a house cat. Eating as much food as he wanted at any time. Sleeping whenever and where ever he wanted. Getting his claws and whiskers trimmed gently because they were curly, as he is a high maintanence boy. Getting his hair combed out, for it was also curly and easily became course with snarls if neglected. Sisal scratching posts with high towers and beds on top of each post. Tiny little toy mice with little bells that smelled like cat nip. Even little toy tacos with fish inside. Fish tacos. Stuffed fish and not those that swam through the deep sea. And a seperate embellished, light blue plate for wet food only. And a different flavor everyday. A fat house cat life was the life for Kimchee. Oh, yes. But alas, that really is the life of Kimchee. He has never been out of the house except for occasional trips to the vet. He is a spoiled, rotten baby and everyone loves him. He really does eat as much food as he wants and sleeps anywhere and everywhere, usually on the nearest human chest he can find. Kimchee has always been an inside cat, he is a Selkirk Rex and he has the personality of a dog and a temper of an old and cranky man sometimes. He has one big tooth left in his mouth and a meow that sounds like a very quiet hawk. He is ten years old, and he is one good boy that perhaps dreams of pirates in his spare time, but probably, definitely, dreams of eating wet food instead.
By A. L. Meade4 years ago in Petlife
Just Above the Clouds
Jamie sits in the exam room alone, the sterile air raising goosebumps along her arms as her fidgeting fingers crumple the brochures in her hands. Her eyes have been stuck on the exam room door for quite some time now, and only when the door finally swings open, does Jamie snap out of her stressful haze. The doctor steps into the room with a small bundle of black fur in her arms.
By Maia Rodriguez4 years ago in Petlife
Three Steps, To The Cottage Door
I crushed a leaf under my feet then paused. Did anyone hear that? I hope not. I mean what’s the point of being stealth if I’m crushing leaves the whole way. It was just one though, and the moon is still hanging in the sky, shining a thin white river along my path.
By Tatayana Butcher4 years ago in Petlife
