Midnight and Queenie – My Introduction to the Dark Side of Humanity

My writing exercise last week had us exploring our experience with loss and grief. For me, it all started with two pets. My first pet was a cat. She was mine. She was dark black and full of love. Her dark coat was the reason I named her Midnight. Queenie, on the other hand, was a family dog, a beagle.

Today I will write the first part – about Midnight.

I will warn you, this could be triggering for some people.

Part One, Midnight

I do not recall the circumstances surrounding how Midnight came into our family or why she was designated as my cat. I thought perhaps those details lived deep in the recesses of my mind, but if they do, they are not yet accessible to me.

Midnight lived with us at my grandmother’s house in the Valley. She was a sweet and lovable cat and I loved her. When my parents decided to move to a nearby town, Midnight stayed behind and continued to live with my grandparents rather than move to a more urban landscape. At my grandmother’s, she could remain an inside/outside cat free to safely roam within the confines of their yard. She never strayed away from home, always staying close to the house.

My grandparent’s house stood on a rise in the property with the yard sloping downward and leveling out. At the lowest level in the yard was a narrow stream which we referred to as a ditch because of the low water levels. There was a small footbridge to cross the ditch. There stood a grand plum tree and the walkway to our clothes line where my grandmother hung the laundry to dry and the pathway that led to the barn.

The property line was just beyond the plum tree. Next door was a similar house with another large lot and a barn, where my parents’ good friends lived. They had two sons, and a sweet Collie named Lassie. Their youngest son was the same age as my oldest sister, and their oldest son who was about 20 at the time.

One afternoon when I returned from school, my grandmother called. It was unusual for children to talk on the phone, but my grandmother had called to speak directly to me which was unusual.

Once on the phone, I heard my grandmother crying. She spoke slowly and told me she had to have Midnight ‘put to sleep’. I did not understand the phrase, but I slowly understood as she explained what happened.

Midnight had taken a stroll around the yard as was her normal routine. She loved to climb up the plum tree and observe her surroundings. On this particular day. Larry, the oldest son, had sicced Lassie on Midnight. This seemingly gentle dog, worked up into a fervor and taunted to attack my cat. My grandmother intervened to stop the attack, but it was too late. Midnight had been severely maimed beyond the ability to recover. My grandmother had her put to sleep.

I cried and she cried. She apologized to me and told me over and over and over how sorry she was. I knew she as was heartbroken as I was. I could not for the life of me understand how anyone could be so cruel. I was so angry and at an age when no child should feel those emotions.

Larry was always a little ‘off’.  We always thought there was something different about him, but no one ever imagined him capable of such a mean and cruel thing. From that moment on I despised him. Sadly, this would not be my last unpleasant interaction with him in my life, but that is a story for another day.

Unfortunately, this also colored my opinion of Collies. It was a breed I would always steer clear of and have slight distrust in. I know that might not be fair, but childhood trauma changes you.

I learned a lot about life that day. I learned humanity had an evil and cruel side. I learned animals could be killed by a doctor and that it could be a humane act. I learned about mistrust. And I learned about how sorrow can connect people in profound ways. I learned my ‘gut feeling’ about people was a valuable instinct I should not ignore. I learned a lot. Maybe too much for a little girl.

I was only seven years old.


34 thoughts on “Midnight and Queenie – My Introduction to the Dark Side of Humanity”

  1. I think it is no surprise that serial killers usually start by torturing or killing animals, and getting satisfaction from their suffering. That young man had darkness inside him, undoubtedly.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s such a hard lesson to learn at 7. Thank you for sharing this. I had an experience in elementary school with someone who wanted to torture an animal. His future did not go well. As a teacher, I encountered young people that I feared would one day hurt others as their demented behaviors escalated with their physical growth. It didn’t take me long to learn that I was releasing my pets (2 I’ve had) to a better place versus allowing them to live in pain and misery. Sorrow does indeed connect us in profound ways. Thank you again for sharing. Take care.

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      1. Yes, I know. When the boys were young we lost 2 dogs to poison and 2 were killed with a pellet right before thheir eyes. In all 4 cases I had proof who did it and the cops didn’t do a thing.

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        1. Don, that is so horrible. I do not understand how people can be so mean and heartless. Why would someone poison or shoot innocent animals?


  3. I can sympathize, Maggie. Living in the country as we did, we accumulated stray cats too. One cat was obviously unhealthy, and my dad was not one to take strays to vets because that cost money. He took the cat into the woods and shot her on my sister’s birthday. He didn’t do it on my sister’s birthday to be cruel. He didn’t even kill the cat to be cruel. He just did what made sense to him. It didn’t make sense to me. Sometimes country kids get exposed to life’s realities in sudden and shocking ways . . . and too soon.

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    1. Yes, I saw similar things happen. In the country, animals tend to be considered less of a living creature and more an implement of need. The reality of killing animals is tough for tender hearted people.


  4. I agree with what was said, many cruel and evil doers started life mistreating animals. I think that is why some animals can sense a good person from a bad one.

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  5. As you know I have a deep love for animals. I have had to hold five beautiful pieces of my heart as they passed on. I can’t even imagine how a little girl had to go through such a loss, especially when such evilness caused the situation. Thank you for sharing this deeply sad experience.

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    1. Your love of animals is admirable, Nancy. They are innocent and in need of our care for sure. It was not a lesson I ever wanted to learn.


  6. Aaaw, I’m so sorry, Maggie. No 7-year old should have to suffer so. Your granny was a love to also break the news so humanely. Hugs, Memarge:)

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  7. Oh! gosh such a harsh lesson for a seven year old to have to cope with. I have never really trusted Collies too. I remember once one pinned our Labrador Ruby to one spot for 20 minutes. The owner was useless and had no control on his dog. I got hold of the dog at one point and asked him to put it on a lead…. He let it slip it’s collar! I was exhausted after. Eub

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  8. Goodness. I’m wishing I could give that little girl a hug. What a terrible experience at any age, just a horror for a wee thing like you.

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    1. Lassie had always been a gentle dog, but I would guess he was badgered to the point of becoming a little dangerous. I never heard of any dog fighting where we lived, but sometimes people have some sort of inate cruelty.


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