Owner of dog set on fire wants justice: Please Help!

Reported by Blair Simmons

Updated: Jan 24, 2008 04:03 PM
When Antoine Draper sent his  two year old pit bull, MiMi, to live with his brother for a while, he said it was like parting with one of his kids.

"From a puppy I fed her with a bottle. From the time she was born," Draper said.

But just days before Christmas, he got a call that made him sick to his stomach.

"I was working, I got a phone call said somebody set my dog on fire. When I came down here my dog was on fire," Draper said.

Mimi was set on fire while she was giving birth to puppies. The dog was still burning when Draper got there and he said he knows who did it.

"I found out later on it was my brother's girlfriend who was mad and high. She sent her friend to get gasoline to kill my dog to hurt my brother. She thought it was my brother's dog. But it was actually my dog," Draper said.

In fact, the remains are still in the yard.

"It was sick! You gotta be real cruel. Messed up in the head...to set a dog on fire. Somebody who ain't did nothin' to you," Draper said.

But to make matters worse, nobody has been charged with the crime.

Draper filed a police report. He said he even brought witnesses down to the station with him. But a month later, his brother's ex-girlfriend still hasn't been arrested.

"There are people tellin' y'all she did it. Why y'all ain't did nothin' about it? Y'all hung Mike Vick for doing it. He just fought a dog! This is somebody who's out here, poured gasoline on a dog and watched it burn," Draper said.

Draper says justice won't bring MiMi back. But her killer should be punished.

What you can do to help:

Sign the petition and let your voice be heard.

Please forward the link to this entry and cross-post!! Signatures needed! Mimi the Pit Bull was set on fire while giving birth. She deserves justice!!!!

In Loving Memory of Indy: For Marie

 

July 4, 1993, Jan 9, 2008

Farewell-our beloved 21st Century Schizoid cat.

Written by: RIA P27

Maine Coon, Indy, Charlimaine's Independence Jefferson,
born on July 4,1993, came into our lives as a 8 week old kitten
in September.

For 14 and a half years, he lived life on HIS terms. With a temperament
as volatile as an M-80, he despised any handling, petting or cuddling,
except for pats on his big head, which he often begged for by
sitting up on his haunches. We respected his distaste and outright
dislike of handling of any kind, which was hard for me, a person
who loves hugging her furbabies at every chance.

Quirky with a "Jeckle and Hyde" personality, Indy loved dropping toys
in the toilet, and sniffing his catnip pillows so deeply we thought
he'd inhale them. Loved playing with his lattice balls and loved his
Fancy feast canned food.

Always healthy, and never needing a vet's attentions except for annual
checkups and dental cleanings, he never looked or acted his age
even after he entered his senior years.

He fell ill a week after New years, going off his food, laying in his cave
under the kitchen table, not eating, drinking, using his box or doing
his other "Indy" things such as meowing at the four walls,
hissing and squalling at his house mates, playing with his lattice balls.

He allowed me to stroke his back the morning of January 9 and shocked
me with how thin he had become. So, off to the vet we raced. My heart
shuddered when he did not battle me while putting him in the carrier.
Warlocke had slept beside him all night. . . another weird and scary thing.

X-rays and other tests revealed an enormous nasty malignant tumor
that hogged almost his entire insides! I gaped at the x-ray in disbelief
that something so huge snuck up on Indy so unnoticed. My mind
and soul screamed-how could such appear so quick and deadly?  

Yet, it occurred as I hoped, for many times I  wished, when Indy's time
eventuality arrived, that it be quick and relatively painless,
as he hated any kind of handling, which included combing,
brushing and even petting of any part of his body but his head.

But I never imagined it would come so soon on the heels
of Phantom's passing. Nor did I ever think he'd not live to 18,19,
or even 20 years of-age . . .  such was his feisty spirit.

On that afternoon on January 9, 2008, with a despairing heart.
Yet with Indy's preferences and temperament in mind, we decided
to let him pass to the Bridge, rather than subject him to exploratory
surgery and other things, which probably would not have worked,
as the vet said the tumor was likely inoperable.

Any other option required the intense handling Indy so despised and
resisted with all he was, and it guaranteed nothing.

Run free, Independence Jefferson, our Indybrat, Braticus, Bratboy,
Psychokitty, to never feel fear or pain again. You will always be
our beloved 21st Century Schizoid cat . . .

Indy, our firecracker, born on July 4, so many years ago.
You lived life on your own terms, yet I never doubted you loved 
your Momma. who will miss you more than I could ever have known.

Marie

Indy's Momma always

Tags: Pet Loss

aoljpictureUpload, aoljpictureUpload_1

A Poem for Those Who Grieve

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die...

Anonymous

aoljpictureUpload, aoljpictureUpload_1

Phantom: In Loving Memory for Marie

Phantom: July 22, 1991 - August 17, 2007

Written by: RIA P27

16 years ago, as tiny kitten with huge ears, you entered
this world in the basement of our neighbor's home, born to a
little cat of Siamese ancestry. On that day, we decided to take
you  into our home, and waited for you to wean.

When the fates took my 1st Maine Coon, Demon, from me when
you turned two weeks old, I almost changed my mind about
adopting you.

Despite my shattered soul that black day in August of 1991, 
I went over to play with you and your sisters, to ease a broken heart.
You gazed at me with baby blue eyes, that fateful  morning
Demon left this world, staring while your sisters scampered
around the room, as if trying to convey an important fact.

In those eyes I saw a flash of something – recognition, determination?
Perhaps both. I knew you belonged with us. We named  you Phantom,
for your  dark color. You earned the moniker F-4 Phantom Wild Weasel
when you scaled curtains and furniture to heights unknown
to other kittens, fearless and playful, and FAST! You and your
best buddy Khan, the big brown tabby Maine Coon kitten
you thought might eat you that 1st day home here,
turned into a two-kitten wrecking crew that exasperated yet amused us.


In the years that passed, your long lanky athletic body grew
into a big strapping muscular 18 pound cat who ruled the yard
and home with speed, strength and cunning that even the largest dog
in the neighborhood feared. I will always remember how big dogs
always looked to see if you patrolled outside before crossing
the perimeter of the property. In your sea green eyes, I always saw
a strong double spirit, indomitable and stubborn.

When Khan passed away, you mourned, and when little Kai
joined our home, you KNEW he was Khan reborn, come home
to you, to us.

You accepted him without protest, and you became good buddies.
He grew into a huge 22 pound big red Maine Coon, while you began
to shed weight as diseases crept into your strong body.

He misses you as we do.

Now, my heart shatters asunder once again, as you travel
into the beyond, and no kitten waits next door to catch
your soaring soul as you did Demon’s. In the end,
the diseases overwhelmed both life essences that kept you so stubborn
and strong.

Farewell -- my Pig Weasel who could outeat a sumo wrestler, my Talker,
with that strident Siamese voice that often sounded almost human, 
my Whale Boy, who chased all dogs from HIS yard, to my Furchild,
who always needed hugs and cuddles when sick. Soar high and far,
like the Fighter Jets we named you for. Fly on, fly free.

Fly in my soul forever my F-4 Phantom Wild Weasel, a special soul
born 16 years ago in the basement next door. This Christmas season,
in your flights through the ethereal world, when our
thoughts turn to your precious memories . . .
may you find your way back home.
 
Love,

your Momma always
Marie

Tags: Pet Loss, OurBelovedAngels

In Loving Memory of ChiChi: For Claudia

 

ChiChi
11/12/1989 - 12/31/2007

"She has been a member of the family since she was 6 weeks old.
She will be GREATLY missed."


When a beloved pet goes to the Rainbow Bridge, we grieve. A hole in our hearts opens which we feel will never be filled.

But that love that we have for that beloved little one remains as a constant in our heart and memories of the joy and happiness that we shared together fills that heart and eases the pain.

Our pets do not want us to mourn their loss endlessly. They watch over us to protect and comfort us and know that one day we will be reunited again.

Sleep sweet, ChiChi. Your presence in Claudia's life will continue to shine as a star in the Heavens.