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As I sit in my fathers Lethbridge home I am still flooded with memories and emotions of growing up in Keremeos. One of my pained memories are of my horse, Ladybird. When I left home at 16 my father said he wouldn’t take care of my horse and he couldn’t be bothered to give her away to anyone so he killed her. As time went on they moved to Lethbridge and their biological son followed along later. Their son only had jeolousy and hatred towards me so he thought it would be fun to pipe up and tell me that he butchered my horse, wrapped her and put her in the freezer. And then he ate her. 
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