My dad ran over a chicken on purpose once. He was so freaking pleased with himself. My brother and I were in the car and both upset. It wasn't even a pet and we were upset and I still remember it. For those of you, who it was your pets, I am so sorry. I can't imagine how awful it would be.
My dad also wanted our yard to be pristine. No roaming dogs or cats were allowed. He would shoot them with the bee-bee gun or throw rocks at them. If anyone in the family complained, he would say we should be happy he would threaten to get out a gun and shoot them. We were expected to also use the bee-bee gun or rocks too. I never wanted to. When I was really young, I just wouldn't, but then he'd get angry and do it and I'd be in trouble. So, I'd try to get to the animals before he did so I could persuade or chase them from the yard in nonviolent ways. I don't remember but I'm pretty sure, at least once I used the bee-bee gun, because I would have been bad if I didn't. I hope I didn't. If I did some other alter holds the memories. The very idea makes me sick. He enjoyed it. I know that. He also hated cats and would kick them if they got near him. When I was an adult, before I cut him out of my life, when he'd come to my house I'd watch him so closely. I had cats and dogs.
The final thing, that allowed me to cut him out of my life, is when he killed his pet bird. My mom had died and it was more her pet than his. But he'd always interacted with the bird and seemed to enjoy. But when she died, he killed it because he was tired of taking care of it. He never asked my brother or I if we would take it. He never tried. My mom also had two aquariums of fish which he flushed. I was done. All the things he'd done to me, I could accept in some twisted way. But I couldn't accept that.
(sorry for making this about me)