They say he's my brother

My name is Tucker, I loved my family, my cats, my people. I had chew toys, walks, my own bed, lots of treats, everything was mine. I had the life and I didn't even realize it. How quickly life can change. How fast it can all be snatched away.

It was a normal day, my people came home from a trip out. But it wasn't normal, they brought it back with them. At first I thought all was fine. I'm bigger, stronger. I thought I would have the upper hand. How I was wrong. I'm not proud to admit that I'm 65lbs of coonhound and I can't even handle a 25lb coonhound puppy. He's unlike any puppy I've experienced before. Relentless, fearless, monstrous. It's bad enough I can't cope with the constant biting, scratching, and chasing. I have to share my space with him. My things. Even my cats (Joxer and Norbert). Their mine. I don't care if they bought another bed for him, toys for him. I'm getting yelled at more for stealing things that should be mine anyway. It's hard to get a moments peace. I fear I might be loosing my mind.

It's day 20. I am plotting with Norbert to take him out. I've already slowed him down by causing a fall over rocks while we were "playing" . Hopefully the leg won't fully heal. I will conquer. This is my house.

My name is Tucker and he will never be my brother.