I killed a mouse. On purpose.
I was at my folks house and saw a little field mouse sitting on the lawn outside of the garage and it was kinda trembling. My parents have had problems with the mice chewing holes in stuff in the garage and in the sides of the garage so my Father had put down poison.
Which, I must say, I am okay with. Mice are cute and living things, but also pests with all the bad things that go with that.
But...I really hate to see an animal suffer. And this was suffering. So I asked my Father if there were any big rocks around. He was, needless to say, rather horrified at my plan to smoosh the LIVING CREATURE with a rock.
"It's cold out. It's warming up in the sun!"
"No, Dad. No mouse would just sit there while we're standing here. It's got a horrible belly ache and is in pain. I'm not going to leave it."
I told my Dad not to look, because he was just bug-eyed at this plan. I took up a nearby brick and poked the mouse with it, just to be sure. The mouse did not run away. It turned on its side and fixed me with it's little black eye. With a little prayer I dropped the brick on the mouse. Okay, now it was my turn to be HORRIFIED. Because the brick bounced off the mouse and the mouse ran a few steps. But I had started and I was determined. Let's just say...the mouse is dead. And I'm sorry to the little mouse soul that it was not immediate, but it was quick and quicker than the poison.
Poor little mouse. I'm really very sorry.
Oh and btw, I cut my finger on the brick during this so HEY MAYBE I'LL GET RABIES. Yay.
Yes I washed the cut immediately, but you know...