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The Sickening Truth About Narcissists And Animal Cruelty

It’s no secret that Narcissists abuse people. But, did you know they abuse animals too? I’m not saying all Narcissists are guilty. I’m referring, specifically, to the sadistic cruelty of a Malignant Narcissist.

I know it sounds crazy, but Narcissists get jealous of the attention you give your pets. Whether they show it or not, they become bitter and resentful. Before long, they’re abusing Fido behind your back.

When they really want to torment someone, Narcissists harm pets as a sick game of psychological torture. I vividly remember the day my Malignant Narcissist ex-husband threw my little Pekingese into the wall.
It was horrific to watch, but the sickening smile on his face afterwards was almost unbearable.

When my ex still wore his mask, he portrayed himself as a real animal lover. I never imagined the sickening truth.

A Dog Named Bullet

When we met, the Narc’s constant companion was a dog named Bullet. I rarely saw one without the other, and would’ve bet my right arm that Bullet had never been abused.

Bullet was a healthy, obedient, and highly intelligent blue heeler. He didn’t display any of the typical signs of an abused animal, and for years, I didn’t suspect a thing. 

That all changed when I came home from work early and saw my ex pounding Bullet’s head repeatedly with his fist. I screamed at him to stop, but the brutality continued. As I watched in horror, he hit the poor dog so hard, so many times, I thought he’d kill him. 

I mentally begged Bullet to retaliate and bite the bastard’s head off, but he didn’t even bare his teeth. He seemed to accept the beating, as if he was used to it. Then he whimpered away quietl. It was one of the saddest things I’d ever seen.

From that day on, the Narc didn’t bother to hide the ugly truth. He was as monstrous to animals as he was to humans. After seeing what he did to Bullet, I understood why my own dog avoided him like the plague.

Cutie Pie

Cutie Pie was an adorable Pekingese with a cute little squashed-in nose and long curling tail. I originally bought her for my son, but she became my lap dog, and I absolutely adored her.

Ironically, it was my love that caused so much misery in her life. All Narcissists are jealous, and my ex was no different. But Malignant Narcissists are also sadistic. Since he so deeply resented Cutie Pie, he took great pleasure in causing her pain.

Though it broke my heart to give her away, I knew I didn’t have a choice. As it turned out, I wasn’t even aware of the worst thing he did to her. There was something else, so sick and twisted, it’s difficult to type the words.

Several months after leaving the Narc, my autistic son told me that he’d once walked in on his father sexually abusing my innocent little dog.


Alt = A Malignant Narcissist will happily abuse any living creature. Including animals, children, and old people. Especially animals, children, and old people.

Jambone was a beautiful mild-mannered Doberman. He looked like he could rip you apart in an instant, but he was a big sweetie. At three years old, a cargo van ran over Jambone. His injuries were traumatic, but he managed to pull through. 

After a couple of hip replacement surgeries and a month at the vet, Jambone came home. I’d sit by the pool and watch him limp around the yard. It wasn’t long before he was running again. He looked like a sleek black stallion, and my heart swelled with gratitude that he was alive.

I was pregnant with my son at the time, and looking forward to watching the two of them play together. I imagined a boy and his dog being the best of friends.

At seven months along, my doctor ordered bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy. I got so bored. I probably would’ve gone nuts without Jambone keeping me company.

He curled up in bed with me and we watched the soaps together.

Back then, my husband was still pretending to be a decent guy.
There were occasional cracks in his mask, but nothing really alarming yet. He even pretended to like Jambone, so I didn’t hesitate when he offered to take him to the vet for his shots. 

Nothing seemed amiss when they got back. Jambone happily reclaimed his spot beside me on the bed, ready to catch up on Days Of Our Lives. I had no idea that it would be the last time.

We watched TV, ate ice cream, and enjoyed being together. Then, we both dozed off. The next morning, I woke up. Jambone didn’t. 

Since he’d just gotten his shots, I thought he had a bad reaction to the vaccine. When I called the vet, I was dismayed when he said Jambone hadn’t gotten his shots because he missed his appointment.

A sick feeling came over me, and I knew.
My husband killed my dog.

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