Excerpt
From "Jewel's Unexpected Friends"

I have never hurt an animal intentionally. I guess that’s as honest as I can be about it. I never wanted to be cruel to any living thing, though I know every living thing is cruel to some other living thing. It is the way of the world. It is the order of things. Living things must eat living things to live.
My Dad liked the idea that killing, butchering, and eating animals are natural acts. He set traps to snare rabbits, squirrels, or groundhogs, and he didn’t always keep what he caught; sometimes he just killed it and threw the body into the bushes. He enjoyed hurting animals. He thought he was tough, a mountain man; other people thought he was wise in the ways of the world. I thought he was mean.
We lived in a cabin made of yellow pine and lodge-pole pine timbers. The place smelled of pine all the time and Dad told people he built it. He told them he cut the timbers and hauled them into place all by himself. No one believed him. I didn’t, either.
My Mom died when I was four or five years old; I’m not exactly sure how old I was, I just know that’s when Dad got even meaner.
The day after Mom’s funeral, Dad burned her Bible, smashed her crucifix, and cursed the sky. He said he was sending God a message, putting God on notice. Dad wasn’t going to do anything God wanted him to do. Dad was angry with God and God had better watch out, because Dad would get even with Him someday.
I hid for most of that day. In the evening, I listened to my Dad cry himself to sleep. Sometime during the night, I heard him asking, “What am I going to do with a worthless little girl? The animals will get her or something.”
I was awake all night wondering what kind of animals would get me and where they would take me.