Read over the animal stories/anecdotes in “Pets on Prozac”. Think about a pair of animals and set up a creative piece that provides an allegory
For example, the dog who bullies a cat or a smaller dog: the mind of the bully (school students); the dog instinctively wants to pick on the cat constantly because he can, because he is bigger and stronger. But at times the dog feels sorry for the cat, but he does not want to think too much about his guilt because it leads to bad feelings about himself.
Sample
I never forget the day that Flopsy came to play. She was the next-door neighbour’s cat and we had only heard her through the hole in the fence. But Flopsy and Rips seemed to bond immediately, and they chased, and played, and …. And I felt quite an outsider, all of a sudden, which was really hard, because Rips was my kind of cat, and had always been there for me. She was a nice big cuddly tubby thing, perhaps too big and cuddly but you could always feel her warmth when you were close to her.
So I lay in wait for her.
I didn’t let her go to the litter tray. I jumped on her when she tried to eat the dinner. Whenever Flopsy was miaowing at the other side of the fence, I prowled up and down the line; I growled menacingly and grunted. Whenever I could I scratched Rips mercilessly. (Descriptions)
Once I nearly scratched her eye out. When I saw her moping around I was overcome with a sense of sorrow, but this did not deter me. She was clearly moping and avoiding me, so I didn’t let her get to her litter tray. She had an accident on the floor and Mr Alex was angry. He was also having a bad cat day, and let fly.
And then he felt sorry and let us sleep on his best couch.
When I saw Rips’ sore eye, I couldn’t believe just how mean I was, but somehow I also enjoyed seeing her in pain. Then I would feel pangs of remorse because of her agony. They went to the vet and it probably cost a hefty sum.
Mr Alex tried a few things; he used to tie me down with a few straps when we were together and that didn’t work very effectively. I noticed that Rips developed a rather strange thing with black socks. If she saw a black sock, she would tap it a few times, and then cower away as if in a state of shock. I think Mr Alex just thought if it took all the black socks away, then Rips would be cured. But I noticed that Rips started becoming more afraid of the blue socks as well.
After that they put a fence up and we were separated. I could only tap the wall and think about the times we used to have. (happiness: we often only value things after we have lost them.) I really just wanted to have a nice mud fight with Rips and kept thinking about that last one a few winters ago when Rips and I were so covered in mud that you couldn’t tell us apart, and Mr Alex was at first beside himself with frustration and then couldn’t stop laughing because Rips, you see, is black as the ace of spades and I’m white, so because of the mud, he couldn’t tell us apart…
The more I think of the mud, the more I think of Rips and I just wish I could have a chance to make up to her. Just say it was me and I don’t know why I did it but I guarded her litter tray relentlessly because I could. Perhaps just share some of those good times again.
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