Toy Killer On The Loose
He attacks in the night and without warning. He bites off ears and rips out stomachs. He is violent, vicious, and clearly angry. We don’t know where he came from or where he went. We don’t know what he looks like. But one thing is certain: he is out for blood. Or actually rubber. Maybe he is teething. Whatever this beast is, he committed murder in our yard last night.
Rody Is Dead. D-E-A-D.
We are deflated. So is he.
We loved you, Rody. We adopted you from our Brooklyn friends, Ozzie and Kerstin Walz. We loved you like our own. You were a happy, bouncy boy the night before. You skipped across the yard, with Fia propelling you the whole way. You were a red bubble of joy in an otherwise gray world. We are in mourning.
All we know is this: He was dragged across our yard and down a set of steps. His ears were torn off and his body bit into in such a way only a savage would be capable. Or perhaps a couple of ferocious animals on a playdate gone array.
And yes, I’m assuming this violent beast is a male. There was way too much testosterone to explain otherwise.
R.I.P. RODY (2006-2012)