I’ll start by saying that the “his” in my title comes from the fact that this story is about my sociopathic male ex. That being said, I’m sure many of you can think of women who fit this unique description of an “animal lover.”
So let’s begin.
My ex loves to tell people how much he loves dogs. He’ll also say he loves horses and sheep and cows and chickens and all other sorts of farm and wild animals, but dogs are tops.
And there’s something really unique about the way a sociopath “loves” a vulnerable creature. It’s confusing, wonderful, horrifying, and most often blindsiding. Sometimes, it’s even used to shame others. Like me.
You see, a couple years ago, I had a little Frenchie-bulldog who was so gentle she wouldn’t chase our house rabbit but so aggressive that she often tried to bite our neighbors. I lived in a row-house of sorts with a shared yard, and she never quite got used to any of the people who lived around us. We tried all kinds of techniques with her, but she still chased our neighbors and bit their clothes.
They were scared to death of her.
She would also try to attack any dog of any size that came within 50 feet of us. I was a single mom of three in grad school with no money for a fenced yard even if I was allowed to have one, so I started to think that maybe our beloved Sadie would be happier or at least better off in a home with a yard and a bit more privacy.
So after much thought and heartache, I placed her with a group of trainers who specialized in rehabilitating little dogs and placing them in ideal environments for their needs. They’d work diligently to do the things I didn’t know how to do, and then they’d find her a yard with a fence.
These trainers were mad at me for having Sadie in the first place, given that I was busy with grad school. She wasn’t trained well enough. I felt ashamed and worthless and terrible. My kids cried and sobbed and yelled at me for placing her.
Our house felt empty.
I still miss her today. I still wonder whether it was a mistake, and it always makes me cry.
Like right now.
But then in comes my ex. Always one to capitalize on any opportunity to make me look even worse, he joined my kids in their crying even though he hadn’t been with me for years and never knew Sadie at all.
He’d tell people that I must be “heartless,” and that he couldn’t understand people like me who would just “throw away their family pet like that.”
At our son’s game, he asked publicly (as a self-appointed representative for our children) how I could do such a thing. He told me that “dogs are kind of like a member of the family.”
Everyone thought I was heartless.
He’d talk endlessly about how much he loves dogs.
And he “loves” dogs.
So let’s talk about what that love looks like.
A Sociopath Expects No Expectations
Most dogs I know will love you no matter what. Even more, dogs that are abused seem to show a pattern of trauma bonding that may be similar to people—something that looks like submission and adoration and begging and delight all at once.
So my ex rescued a dog long ago, before we were even together. He and his girlfriend-before-me went to a shelter and found a shiny black lab with scars all over her face and a sweetheart nature. No one knew much about her, but he took her everywhere and loved to tell the story about how he saved her from “the pound.” He’d say, “I saved her life.”
“She looks pretty good now, but you should’ve seen her. She was covered with scars—all over her face. I don’t know who could treat such a sweetheart like that. Such a sweetheart. Now sit, Rosie. Watch this, watch her sit up. It’s hilarious.”
And he’d tell her to sit up, and she’d be so excited to please him that she’d throw her front paws so high in the air that she’d fall over backward or sideways every time. She never tried to catch herself—she’d be so focused on watching his eyes.
She was a wonderful dog. Long after he split with his girlfriend-before-me and long after we got together and married, that sweet-hearted dog would flop in the kiddie pool with our tiny children and never step on their feet.
I loved her. She’s lay so close to me while I stood at the kitchen sink that I often tripped backward over her. She loved her people.
But sometimes she would pee on the rug.
And that would mean a beating from my ex. If he caught her. With fists and feet and all.
Because rules are rules, and dogs don’t pee on the rug. Not in his house.
If I was there, I’d stop him. I’d yell at him. We’d fight. And then he’d love on Rosie all over again, calling her to him as he lectured and yelled at me for stopping him. He’d rub her ears. She would lay at his feet. He would start gushing about how she was a sweetheart. The one-sided, unconditional dedication seemed to thrill him.
And he demanded it.
He had another dog, too, when we got together. Because he “loves” dogs so much. And this one liked to chase buzzards in the sky, so sometimes he would wander away. This was unacceptable, sure, but I watched my ex hold him by the collar and kick him repeatedly in the stomach and ribs when he finally got him back. Which I didn’t think was an ok way of teaching him that lesson.
So I’d run out to them and ask him to stop.
Tell him to stop.
And then he would. And he’d flip right into loving on that poor, limping dog. I’d often wonder what would happen if I hadn’t made it out there to help.
The Sociopath Loves to Make You Do Tricks
Both of those original dogs are long gone. One to a car and one to old age. And how a sociopath deals with old age is to turn you out into the snow because he doesn’t want to take the chance that you’ll throw up on his rug.
So when Rosie died, she died alone. Out on his deck in a January blizzard, begging at the back door to be let inside to lay by the fire she loved so much.
My daughter cried and cried over the loss. She was infuriated that her dad wouldn’t let Rosie in like normal. Her brothers had learned by then to sit silently and say nothing.
And then Rosie was gone.
I still cry over that one, too. I loved that girl, and I always wonder if I should’ve taken her with me when I left.
She was like a member of the family.
But then she was pretty easily replaced. He quickly got an American Bulldog who looks super scary when you pull in his driveway but who generally puts her belly to the ground and will do pretty much anything you ask of her.
Her name is Bailey.
And Bailey can sit, lay down, stay, and play dead if you act like you’re shooting her. My ex loves to show people this trick. Teaching dogs tricks is a joy to him. He loves to make them run through each one. He tells our children all the time that Bailey is the best dog in the world. That she is far smarter than my stupid dogs who in his opinion know nothing and are pretty much a waste of human time. He talks about these things. Incessantly. It’s critically important to him that our children love Bailey and think little of any pets we now have at our house.
Because he loves his dog so much. He loves Bailey to pieces. He shows her off, he takes her places, and he loves to make her play dead for people. He loves how much she loves him. He adores her unconditional affection. He claims she’s like one of his children.
And then he leaves her locked outside with no blanket during the coldest weather in fifty years.
He throws her out of second story windows if she happens to pee on the second floor.
He holds her by her collar and kicks her body repeatedly if she does wrong.
He beats her with his hands.
And then he rubs her all over.
He tells her she’s the best dog on earth.
And he does all this in front of our kids.
Which always makes me wonder:
What does he do when no one’s there?
(This post can also be found on hgbeverly.com.)
HG, feeling pretty sick after reading this. Have you reported him to any society that prevents cruelty to animals as this is now the third dog that you know of that he has harmed or caused the death of?
Where I live you can do it anonymously.
Can this be caught on webcam or something like that? He should be arrested for animal cruelty.
Wow, HGBeverly you just brought back a flood of memories…
My sociopath ex-husband loved animals too.
He got a cat before we were married. He paid a pretty penny for her because she was she was a pure breed with papers. He loved that she didn’t like me. She would hide up in the top of a bookshelf and jump down onto my shoulders biting and scratching as she went to to floor. The ex found that so unbelievably endearing. When she forgot to use her litter box, he would throw her into the wall and count the hang time until she slid down into her litter box that was as entertaining to him as showing off the photos he would take of her making her look like a well loved member of the family. One day he got tired of her. She scratched one of his daughters. He drove out into a wooded area with the cat and threw her out of the rolled down window of his car. I asked where the cat was? He told me that he was doing 75mph when he tossed her. I could expect the same treatment if I displeased him. I wished that I had the courage to leave him right then and there, but I knew he would never allow that.
He gave me a beautiful Cocker Spaniel puppy. Everyone thought that was such a sweet and wonderful thing for him to do for me. He was a good husband. He gave her to me after first giving me my first concussion. She was less a gift and more a tool. That “good husband” used my beautiful dog to control me. He knew I would do anything to keep him from hurting her. He would take her for long walks flirting with women who complimented him being such was devoted animal lover. I loved that dog and she loved me. A few times when he was beating me for some infraction of his many rules, she would jump in and divert his attention to her. She saved my life a couple of times and I returned the favor a few myself.
Later, in a fit of anger because the dog adored me he brought home a kitten. The kitten attacked my dog so she was a keeper. I didn’t want to get attached to her, but I did. Eventually, she and the dog became buddies – something he didn’t like. Then I got pregnant. The doctor told him that he would have to deal with the litter box because it was dangerous for me given my pregnancy. I knew that he would never take over the chore. I promised him that I would keep taking care of the littler box. During my seventh month I couldn’t find the cat. I was afraid of what he had done to her. By then I was well versed in his ideas of teaching me lessons to make me a better person and wife. I asked if he had seen the cat. He told me that he gave her to one of his co-worker’s ex-girlfriends. Of course that was a lie, which was nothing new, besides he was always working other people’s girlfriends. I found the cat days later… or what was left of her. He had used his underwater pneumatic spear gun. Her corpse was attached to the cinder block wall behind our house. The spear had penetrated her little body and was imbedded in the wall almost all the way. I never confronted him about it. I knew better.
I understand the tears. I’m crying now as these memories come flooding back. I tried so hard to obey all of his rules. It wasn’t possible to keep track of them. What he enjoyed most were my reactions. It took me a lot of therapy to learn not to participate in his games. People said he was wonderful with animals. He was such a great husband. I was by so many that I was so blessed to have him in my life.
Years later, I realize how blessed I am. I am blessed in that HE found someone else to play his sociopath games with. I am blessed that because I learned not to play into his games he lost interest in me,our son, and my step-daughters who still claim me as their other mother. I am blessed in that my husband now really does love animals and our animals adore him as much as we do.
Through happenstance I found his facebook page. He has a new cat, he takes pictures of her all the time and posts them on his page. I feel sorry for that poor innocent creature.
oh God Oh God oh God, Bets.
How absolutely horrible. I am just… GUTTED. I wish I could vomit to feel better. We can cry together because I am still sobbing thinking of and recalling what my ex did to our dogs. I did not share how he eventually murdered them. I can’t bear it. You poor dearest woman.
My ex husband is not just a narcissist. I would actually be relieved if he was. He was someone who ENJOYED killing animals. My ex fulfills the FULL definition of a sociopath. killing without conscience. As he said, “to teach it a lesson to not make him mad”. (thus my post about the video of Elliott Rodgers)
NotWhatHeSaidofMe, I feel for you! In reality, there wasn’t much we could do for our animals when we were under the control of someone else. By the last animal, it wasn’t that I didn’t care… I was numb. I knew full well, what was done to them could easily have been me. It could have been me attached to the cinder block wall and he would have entertained his newest conquest within feet of my rotting body without a care in the world. He would have told her about how callous I was to the suffering of others and animals while eating a fine meal.
abbri, while under the control of a sociopath, you tend to consider the consequences of your actions. Punishments can be brutal. Even if you are somewhere with individuals or agencies that might help, under the spell of the sociopath independent thought is dangerous and you are conditioned to believe that there is no one who will help you because you are not worth being helped.
I occasionally train law enforcement agencies in Domestic Violence Intervention. One of the things I stress to them is to check out the animals. Children will usually disclose mistreatment of animals before they will admit to what is happening to the adults or themselves. The animals in a house will sometimes yield more truth about the situation than the humans ever will.
Life with a sociopath is about survival from day to day. What is survival one day may not be survival the next day. Normal is anything but normal and hard to define. For me, some days the hardest part about being a survivor is forgiving ourselves.
Bets
Especially in those last years, life was survival. And on the last day, for me it was literally finding a way to survive and get away.
I like what you said about kids and animals. GREAT ADVICE there. GREAT insight. Kids don’t know to tell about themselves. I was an abused kid and all I wanted was food. My mom beat the crap out of me and it never occurred to me to complain about that. But I would have talked about how much it bothered me what she did to the animals.
With my ex, I thought I did protect our dogs. I thought he heard and agreed with me. I had NO IDEA that instead, he just abused them out of sight. If I had known what he was doing, because of my past history with my mom, I would have INSTANTLY taken those dogs back to the people we got them from, told them what my husband was doing, and ask for their help. People will help with animals when they won’t help with an abused human. I may not have thought I deserved to escape abuse, but I was someone who did not tolerate it being done to anyone or any animal. That is the ONLY time the mother lion in me came roaring out.
I was hoping the article would answer a nagging question I have had for quite a while. Has anyone else experienced suspecting a male Narcissist of using his “beloved pet” to satisfy his sick sexual needs? I am 99.9% positive my ex has and still is sexually abusing his female dog! And while trying to research this sick stuff I ran across an article that said when a man has sex with a female dog – it’s the best sex he’ll ever have and that it was addicting. Right then and there I just knew it was true. Never had solid proof but am sure if I could find a way to have her looked at by a vet they would probably be able to verify it just by looking at her. Why haven’t I reported it? I tried, but without being caught in the act the ASPCA only knocks on the owners door and asks him if he is sexually abusing his animal. When they deny it…investigation over. I was then told sexual abuse of an animal is a penal code violation and should be reported to the police and in the next breath told me not to bother they would only view me as a “disgruntled ex”. And I’m the one left feeling guilty because I didn’t and she is still stuck there with him. = {
My love of animals has played a big part in my life and my healing, and actually determined the course of my life at one point:
Over 20 years ago I moved in with this guy I was dating who was very narcissistic (in retrospect). He was actually a pedophile but I didn’t know that at the time. Like many disordered people, he had a sweet side, and we actually had a lot of fun together. He had a big home, and partly the decision was economic because I was very poor. I brought my two cats with me. The cats didn’t like him. It’s amazing how animals can just pick up on someone’s energy. The guy was loud and boisterous when he spoke; it was part of his obnoxious attention-getting personality. And whenever he was around, the cats ran. Because my cats didn’t like him (I should have paid attention), we went to a shelter and adopted another cat just for him. She was a tiny little tabby named Leah. She had the most adorable little high pitched trill, a very loud squeaky purr, and a little head tilt. Totally adorable. She also was afraid of him and would hide under the bed when he came around.
Being a narcissist, he was very displeased that this cat, which we adopted for him, did not like him. So one day he picked her up by the scruff of the neck and threw her across the room onto the bed. She was not physically hurt, but she was very traumatized.
There are many things at the time that I tolerated from men. My self esteem was not great, having been raised by disordered parents. But animal cruelty was not something I could tolerate. I loved my cats as if they were my children, and since I never had human children, my animals WERE my children. I needed to get out, but I had no place to go. Working for minimum wages, I couldn’t even afford to rent an apartment. I had no one I could stay with. I sat down and prayed to a God I didn’t really believe in. I asked God, “What can I do that will make me a lot of money in a short time, so I can get out?” The answer I got was very surprising. I have always been an exceptional dancer, and I’ve always had a way with men. I decided to become a private dancer (stripper), doing house calls. I thought it would be easier to do this a few hours a week one-on-one rather than work entire shifts at a club with the cigarette smoke, catty women, and sexually charged atmosphere. At least one on one, I could have more control over the situation. I did this job very part time. It was easy money but the psychological/spiritual toll it took on me was huge. And this is how my cats changed my life – by helping me gain my financial freedom from dependent living situations.
The narcissistic bf never harmed the cat again. But in 3 months, I had saved enough money to buy a small condo, buy a decent car, pay off the car, and remodel the condo. I moved out and never looked back.
Unfortunately, one of my other cats disappeared while we were living with the bf. I was so distraught, I hired a “pet detective” to help find her. I went door to door for a month and combed the shelters. She never turned up. I don’t think he did anything to her, but I think she just ran away and someone adopted her. The cats were always on edge around him, and they weren’t happy there. It is my one big regret that I moved my precious animals into that house with a disordered person. After I moved, I adopted a third cat that I had fallen in love with at one of the shelters. Several years later I also adopted a Siamese from a shelter who had had a hard life. All of my animals lived out their lives spoiled and pampered and died of natural causes. They were never subjected to any form of cruelty again. However, I never found the one who disappeared. It took me a long time to forgive myself.
I have a zero tolerance for anyone who lifts a finger to one of my animals. I no longer have cats – they have all passed, and I am too heartbroken by their loss to get another one. But I have two boa constrictors (!) and they are also like my children and spoiled rotten.
I just bought a new condo where I will probably retire. I’m thinking about getting another cat. Big decision. And because I love to tie up loose ends in all my stories, I will tell you that ironically, I am once again starting to make money dancing. I just gave my first private salsa dancing lesson the other day. Woohoo! Over the years when I’ve struggled financially, I’ve occasionally considered going back to my old job as a stripper. But at my age – 53 – they would probably only pay me to put my clothes back on!
Sorry this was such a long story, and thanks for those who read to the end.
Hello to everyone who commented so far.
First, thank you all for sharing. I just read through all of your comments, and I had to stop reading after a while and have a good cry. My heart goes out to all of you. And to all of your pets, present and past.
I think I touched a soft spot with this post, and it’s bringing up some horrifying memories and some anger and some gratitude and a whole mix of reactions and responses. A few of you asked about web cams and reporting, and I have to say that I would love, love, love to catch this behavior on film. Now. Back when we were together, I felt like I could prevent it or stop him. And frankly, I was lost in his spell and too disempowered to see clearly or do anything more. He was beating all of us into the ground. But I got out, and so now I can talk about it. And I can do more. Here’s what that looks like:
Since 2007, all reports of animal abuse have come to me through my distressed children. If I call based on their word, I put them at enormous, terrible risk with their father. He is incredibly clever, so he never breaks a bone or leaves visible injuries that are over the line. When outsiders are called in to check on him (for child abuse, for example), they consistently fall for his charm. Historically, they then turn on me in anger (and with consequences) for calling them in the first place. If they went to his house today, they’d see a dog who’s well-fed and knows tricks. Who sleeps on his daughter’s bed sometimes. They’d see a kind man gushing on that dog. So the likelihood that they would take my call seriously after meeting the man are pretty slim in my experience. In the meantime, the consequences to my children could be horrifying. Their dad has equal time with them, and he will not hesitate to treat them like he does the pets. If he caught them filming him mistreating an animal, I would fear for their lives.
Yes, I’ve called Children’s Protective Services. My children’s pediatricians and therapists have also called independently and of their own accord. After these calls, their Guardian always got involved and squashed any efforts to help because he was also under the sociopathic spell. I’ve spent nearly a decade trying diligently to tell various professionals what’s happening in a way that will inspire them to help, and no one ever believes me once they meet the man.
He’s just so damn likable.
In my book, I also talk about how he killed a horse. Not with a spear (my God, that story is horrifying), but through negligence. The vet knew what was happening. But again, once people come into contact with his charm, they stop looking at what he’s doing and focus instead on what he says.
In the meantime, people and creatures will fall all around him.
I know it’s frustrating in a way that can be debilitating. But until protective systems can identify sociopathic individuals and are willing to stop them, there will be suffering.
I hope I see that development in my lifetime. And I won’t give up.
Many thanks to all,
H.G.
HG, thanks for your reply and for explaining your point. I couldn’t read the other posts – I decided I didn’t want to distress myself with with more such experiences like yours….being a dog owner who sees my dog as my child.
I found your post really, really disturbing. Animals cannot tell anyone they are being abused and, unlike kids, animals never grow up and leave an abusive parent. They depend on their owner to survive and be treated well for the rest of their short lives.
How do we get a psychopath to stop doing these things to their kids or animals? I recall it is to let them think it is in THEIR best interests to do so. Have you any idea what that would be for your ex? To stop him harming his kids, dogs, others?
I know Dr Hare is taking this approach in UK prisons, has anyone heard if what he is doing is working to stop the psychopaths reoffending?
Thanks again for the response HG. I’m wondering if LF should put some sort of warning on certain posts to readers before we read them, such as “If you are a dog-owner you may not wish to read this article as you will find it particularly disturbing”. Or put a “disturbing rating” against certain posts. This may protect particularly fragile individuals in the newly discarded stage of their recovery or protect people like me who cannot stand reading about cruelty to animals.
This post struck such a cord in me. I also had pets who suffered at the hands of my ex, this man who “loved dogs.” One of my dogs was severely injured before we were married, and I will never forget the vet explaining to me how an injury like this could happen. He looked at me point blank and asked if my boyfriend could have done this. ” Oh no, I said. He loves dogs!” At the time I really believed he loved dogs, and something else must have happened to mine. I ignored my gut, and married the animal abuser. At the time I had 3 cats and 3 dogs. Within the first 6 months I had one cat and 2 dogs, plus another cat he got for me to make up for the loss of the first 2. And he also purchased an expensive dog from a breeder, to show how much he loved dogs. He hated animals, and blamed me for any mistake or behavioral issue they had. One of my dogs became rather aggressive, when he had never acted that way before. Over time, we took in more cats, to replace the ones that kept “disappearing.” There was always a suspicion in the back of my mind as to what happened to the ones who disappeared, but he always had an alibi, or some sob story about how much he missed them too. To all of our friends, he looked like such an animal lover. But I knew better. I watched him throw my cat down a flight of stairs, then kick him out the front door for urinating in the closet. I saw him kick and chase the dogs, or yell and scream st them for no reason. I listened many times as he used my beloved pets to threaten me. If I didn’t do what he wanted, if I didn’t get rid of my pets, if I didn’t train them better, or keep them out of the house, then he would tell me the horrible things he would do to them. He had a way of placing the blame and guilt on me, for the animals’ behavior. I loved my pets, and I feared what he might do, so I did what he demanded of me. And the worst part, is I knew better!! But I also knew no one would believe me. After all, he loved these animals! He loved dogs. I was just an irresponsible pet owner. The year before I left, one of my dogs that I brought into the marriage disappeared. When I decided to leave him, the other one also went missing. Months later he was found and returned to me. All told, I lost 7 cats and one dog during my marriage. I spent thousands on vet bills to heal the wounds, and watched a loving dog become fearful and aggressive. Today he has a new dog, and to everyone who knows him, he is a dog lover. I shudder to think of what he does to this poor animal when no one is looking.
I agree with the other posters who have speculated that the way the spath treats his or her pets, is very likely to be the way the spath treats his/her children.
In public and in photos, the kids will appear to be treated with normal, loving parental kindness and empathy, but that is only for public consumption. The children will be maltreated, emotionally and/or physically battered, sexually abused, etc., behind the privacy of closed doors, or whenever the spath thinks he or she can get away with it (the bruising pinch or hard kick under the table, the clamped upper arm that leaves bruises or crescent-shaped cuts, the covert insult that is masked as concern, the quickie sexual groping when a moment of opportunity presents itself, the painful face-squeeze, etc.)
That makes the semi-rough, jocular “loving” attention after abusive incidents highly confusing, even crazy-making. The kids grow up bewildered, anxious, and terrified of their own parent, perhaps even believing that the abuse they endure is deserved but they feel too ashamed to ever mention it to anyone who might help.
I think that’s a good idea, whenever possible, to note how the family pets behave and are treated, such as noticing if the pets seem unduly nervous, aggressive or anxious, if the pets limp or seem to have sore spots and yet are not elderly animals, if the pets are left outside all the time or in uncomfortable weather conditions, etc.
If the pets are maltreated or neglected, starved, battered, and treated more or less like objects, then the children are probably experiencing the same thing.
Sounds exactly like my son, Eric. He insists on superlative behavior or he kicks his loving little puppy in his ribs! I don’t doubt for a minut that he does the same to his precoscious 6 year old daughter (in private, for now.)
Hi Flicka,
I hope that your granddaughter isn’t being maltreated by her father/your son, but if you suspect that this child is being abused in any way, I hope that you will find some way to help her. (Perhaps she can stay with you over the summmer and on holidays? Any time away from an abuser is like balm for a wound.)
I suggest that you start keeping a personal log of the days/dates and times that you suspect that she’s been maltreated, and the nature of the abuse or neglect.
Try to spend as much time as you can with your granddaughter, so even if its not possible to remove her from the “care” of her abusive spath father (its difficult to do without overt, blatant evidence of physical or sexual abuse) your granddaughter will know that she has at least one adult who loves her and won’t hurt her, is safe for her to love back, and confide in.
And if your spath son feels safe in acutally maltreating his dog in your presence, then I hope you will report him to the proper authorities for that, too. If possible, use your iPhone to record him kicking his dog, if you can do it without him being aware of it.
Abusers mostly operate in darkness and covertness; they want privacy, and they terrorize and threaten their victims so they won’t talk.
So my fantasy wish is that more and more victims of spaths will start using hidden cameras in their home or place them in the spaths’ homes (even though that isn’t exactly legal) so they can record actual footage and sound of spaths abusing their victims with the day/date/time indicated.
I think that’s the only real weapon that will defeat covert abuse, is to make it NOT covert any more; turn on the spotlight.
Dearest Babs, As predictable, my spath son has forbidden any further contact between his 6 year old precoscious daughter with her grandmother (me) so no chance to follow your suggestions, unfortunatly! They live 1 hour away and I am now disabled. Thanks for your suggestions…all good.
My daughter’s sociopath/narcissist neglected the dog so much that it developed a blood disorder and died in just over a month of my daughter being away from her. He didn’t care about the dog at all. The dog was left alone all day, unable to walk or eat or drink. He probably would have left it to languish and die at home except his father thought it would “look bad” for the divorce. So they took it to the vet too late to help. Afterwards, they bought a charm for the dog’s ashes and gave it to the child to wear around her neck. Horrible!
This sounds exactly like my ex! My ex too said that he loved dogs and persuaded me to get a staffordshire. He wanted to buy this young dog from a person who was a drug addict and did not treat her very well. Even though I wanted to help the dog away from her owner, I did not think that we were able to look after the dog in the situation we were in, as I was studying and he was working and the young dog would need a lot of care and attention. But he promised to take care of it properly and bought it.
Me and my ex had just been together for a couple of month and we shared a small flat, (that I payed for) and when the dog was alone in the flat for too long, I was the one who had to go home and take care of it. When my ex was out partying carelessly without returning for days, he had no thoughts of caring for the dog, and I was the one to look after it.
He said he loved the dog dearly but the same as you describe, he punished the little dog if she pied indoors, as she was not trained properly. When he wanted to, he was very loving towards her, but within a second he could switch and be angry and hit the dog if she didn’t do what he wanted! I started to think that if he would ever have a child, this is the way he would treat the child too. I also realized that the way he behaved towards the dog was the same way as he actually treated me!
I felt so incredibly sorry for the dog being in this situation, I loved and cared for her but did not have the time to care for her in the way she needed and I told my ex that we had to look for a new owner that would have the time and the love that she required. But he refused. Because he loved her so much he said..
So one day a few month later when I returned home the dog was gone. I asked what happened and he said he returned her to the previous owner. He told me not to ever talk about it again and refused to tell me where the owner was. I said that I want to get in touch with the previous owner to see her one last time and also make sure everything was ok (as the previous owner was a drug addict I was not happy about her returning to him) but he refused to give me any contact number and said that he deleted it. I did not believe him and I still have no idea what he did with the dog.