I know that I am sticking my neck out a mile and expect to try and dodge at least a ton of bricks as a result of this letter. There could, however, be a perfectly reasonable explanation for what is being described as the horrendous torture of Star.

Let us assume that I was the one who did it. Star has been my loving companion for the last four years, having adopted her as a stray. We live in a farmhouse; my schooling was not much. I am in my late 80s and getting frail.

Star has been sick for some time and has been throwing up her food regularly. I cannot take her to the vet nor can I take her to the SPCA to have her put down. I cannot stand her looking at me with her sorrowful eyes. There is no one I can give her to. What do I do? Abandon her as far away as possible or put her down myself? I decide on the latter. But how?

I have a shot gun. One shot in the brain and it will be all over. But what if I misfire and she runs away. I must make sure that she cannot do so.

She wags her tail as I dig the shallow grave. The rest I do hurriedly as tears flow down my cheeks. It is all over. Star is apparently lifeless as I cover her up with soil, cardboard and a trunk. But apparently in my hurry I missed – the shot did not hit her brain. I did not know this as I covered the grave for nature to take its course. My whole plan has misfired!

In court, the magistrate was rather lenient with his sentence when he heard the details.

I declare here and now that this will be my one and only intervention on this subject.