Last night, while I was on the train trip from Hell, my cat found a young rabbit. My wife was home and managed to prevent the half-feral asshole from killing it in the house and put it in a quiet spot in the yard; hoping for the best.

This morning it was still breathbg.

She had to leave early but asked me to handle it. I tried giving it some water with a straw, and I didn’t see any obvious injury, but he laid there breathing hard.

So I put on my welding gloves and got a plastic grocery bag. I gently picked it up and cradled it in the bag until it stopped moving.

I am a monster. Hate me.

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[–] 5 points 1 month ago (2 children)

When I was 16 I killed a bird, a nestling really. I googled how to give it food - I needed to mill some seeds with water into a paste and administer with a syringe. The syringe slipped and the paste went into its throat. It choked to death in my hands. Ever since once a year this episode gives me nightmares. In these nightmares I am a little chick who is choking.

You're not a monster. You painlessly killed an animal that would've died of pain.

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