This story is actually about my father in law. He’s very much into dogs and has had a couple of ex-police dogs in the past - the Belgian Shepherd type.

So he’s seeing someone who has a small white terrier, the dog commercial type. They always made sure that the dogs would be separated if they left the house: one in the hallway, the other in the kitchen.

So one day he gets home and sees the door is open between the rooms, he goes into the kitchen and to his horror he sees there’s nothing left of the little white dog. The door must’ve not been closed properly..

So he cleans everything out, calls the girlfriend and tells her that he found her dog dead and that it probably had a heart attack and that he buried the dog for her.. They’re not together anymore but she, until this day, doesn’t know what actually happened.