DECEMBER 17, 2009
During a brief moment of insanity after the death of my pet kitty Brady in 1991 (at the age of 17), I attended Vermont Law School to study Environmental Law. He was bleeding from several bullet wounds, and visibly in excruciating pain. A group of law school students walked far out of their way to avoid the sight. I stared into his eyes while envisioning him breaking free from the prison the men made of the truck, and the prison the men made of his now mortally-wounded body.