Monday, May 07, 2007

Run! He's A Killer!

I accidentally killed a chipmunk last Sunday. I was standing in my driveway and I saw a chipmunk just sitting there in my garage. You rarely see these things just sitting there. They tend to dart around a lot. It starts moving and it's limping. It looks like a bum leg. I know this because of my expertise in the veterinary sciences. Anyway, I feel bad and I walk towards it and pet it. I want to get it somewhere safe, namely out of my garage. So I pick it up but it got away from me and crawled under the base of Aaron's basketball net. The thing weighs 300 pounds filled with sand the way it is. I figured the chipmunk wouldn't be able to get out from under there (again, because of my animal knowledge) so I get some leverage and move the whole thing. Maybe it was the adrenaline or something. I mean, how did I move it by myself? If it was adrenaline, it didn't last long. The weight shifted and I basically rolled over the little guy. I didn't flatten it or anything. In fact, I thought I missed it altogether. But it was just lying there, breathing heavily. So now I felt awful. I picked it up and put it near a hole that it (or some other chipmunk) had dug. I kept petting it and it would move occasionally, trying to get back into the hole (or away from the idiot human petting his probably broken ribs). So I left it alone. Later on, it died. I feel bad. I was just trying to help.

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