It's really all about how far you want to go. Do you feel bad for the bacteria you kill when you wash your dishes?
Oh nooooo. Why'd you put that thought in my head? lol. I have thought about this for sure, but it hasn't hit me int he guilt gut yet. I think about this sorta stuff even when I mow the lawn, always looking out for little critters that I can maybe help save...I still mow the law tho, and do everything else I have to do. I just end up taking a bunch of time outs to save things hahah. My family things I am kookoo.
When I do kill something I am aware of it's life ending. It is what it is, a part of life, and it's prescence in my living space is an infestation and carefully removing each one without injuring it would be an extremely meticulous, time consuming task.
I am always aware of when I kill something intentionally. I usually say that same little prayer that I say after seeing a dead animal in the road. I'm not trying to say anyone else needs to do this or that death isn't a natural part of things...I just have this weirdness about me for some reason. It makes me feel better about all the rest of the death that goes into making my comfortable life possible.
One thing I was thinking of is how a source of income for people is the trade of fox fur. It's completely legal for someone to kill my fox neighbour if she goes on their property. Luckily she doesn't go to far and as far as I know no one around here is into killing foxes.
The idea of someone killing her for her coat to end up a part of a piece of clothing would absolutely devastate me.
I feel the same way and also know what it is like to be on the killing side. I once was messing with a bee bee while staying at my Aunt and Uncle's house further out in the country than I am now and of course I started shooting it around birds and squirrels, trying honestly not to hit them, but having a little fun trying to make them jump...well, wouldn't you know that when trying to miss this big beautiful dove I ended up shooting it square between the eyes. I mean I couldn't have aimed any deadlier if I had tried. For a brief second after I pressed the trigger, I saw the bird spasm upwards, and at first I thought it was merely flying frightened away, but then it's ascent stopped midway and the fluttering just stopped and it fell to the forest floor.
It was a bird that my Aunt was familiar with as she had all sorts of bird feeders set out, although I didn't find this out right away. At first, out of shame and guilt I brought the bird's corpse back further in the woods and buried it under a layer of sticks and leaves. I thought if I could hide the evidence, no one would have any reason to know what I did...so there we are later, all of us around the dinner table passing the food around, when my Aunt's dog, this little white terrier, comes prancing in the doggy door with the dead bird in it's mouth and its tail wagging frantically. My Uncle got the bird from him and the bee bee death wound was obvious on its head and I ended up spilling the beans and crying into my mashed potatoes as I fessed up. It seems like such a dumb thing, just normal kid stuff, but it definitely was one of those things that always stuck in the recesses of my mind reminding me about death and randomness and stuff...
