Poor little bird...

Yesterday after I arrived home from work, I was putting Rue's work dinner together when all of a sudden there was a thud against the sliding glass window. I knew right away a bird had just flown into it and when I looked out there were feathers floating around and a little brown bird twitching on the porch. This has happened several times before and the little birds have always died immediately. But this poor little guy was very much still alive and very very broken. My husband went out and picked the bird up by the tail and threw it out to the backyard for the dog to play with and eventually destroy. I was horrified. That poor little bird was suffering and now on top of that suffering he was going to be tormented and devoured by the dog. I couldn't stand the thought. So I set my jaw, marched out to the shed, grabbed the shovel, walked up to the little bird, said "I'm sorry!" and swiftly ended his suffering. I marched back to the shed, put the shovel away, marched back into the house and continued to get Rue's dinner together. Rue came up to me and said, "That was some tough stuff."

I have never killed an animal before. I did not like doing it. I guess I know now I am able to do it when it's necessary though. I did not like doing it. Poor little bird.