Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Why I know hunting is not for me

I just killed a mouse and I feel bad.

Its not like I killed it out of cold blood, like I was looking to kill it. Its just the dirty varmit has been living and mooching off me forever. In fact, there used to be 3 of the suckers in the house, but my brother (Jeff) caught the first two. Mouses, while can be looked at as cute and adorable, are actually very dirty and carry many diseases. I didn't want any of that in my house.

The last surviving mouse was a good one. No joke. The dude was cleaver and deft. He was able to somehow get the cheese off the trap with out getting caught. I think the slice of cheese was too light, so I put a giant sucker on there (which caused the mouse to use a little more effort in getting his fill). As I laid in my bed reading my sports Illustrated, I heard a loud snap and knew right away it was the last mouse.

As I grabed the trap, he was on there, alive and trying to break free. I'm positive his back was broken. The poor little sucker just looked at me with those innocent mouse eyes as if I was the devil himself. I about lost it.

Anyway, I took him out to my trash bin and opened the trap and he fell in the bin. I didn't see where he dropped, but I know he didn't make any kind of effort to get out. He just laid there.

Poor guy.

I was then imagining if there was something like that for humans and if you were to be somewhere you aren't supposed to be, a giant human trap came flying down on you and snapped your back. That would suck eggs.

I guess I can justify it by claiming to be a Darwinist.

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