Had to kill a small bird today that had flown into the window at work and had broken it's wing/neck/etc.

It was awful.

When I was a kid, my best friend Brian had a BB Gun and being the mean little pricks we were, we would pump the bastard up and shoot at the birds on the telephone wires. We'd hit them from time to time and some tail feathers would fly off and they'd flap away (angrily).

In hindsight it was a damn cruel thing to do, but we were young and stupid. Well, one day we were in his backyard sitting on the diving board of his pool shooting at the birds on the telephone wires and it was my turn. I pumped the BB Gun over and over and then took aim.

I fired and the bird fluttered wildly and then spun downward like a burning divebomber into the neighbors yard. Horrified, my friend and I sheepishly made our way towards the house. Just before we got inside the neighbors head appeared over the fence. He had been pruning his bushes and there was now a dying bird flapping spasmatically in his yard. He demanded it be removed.

We went inside and told my friends father what had happened and what he suggested we do.

"It's your responsibility to put it out of its misery." My friends father was something of a redneck and an avid hunter. He had no qualms about killing animals but it was clear that right or wrong, he held a certain respect for God's creatures. Killing in jest or simply for fun was an activity befitting a punishment.

Slowly and quietly, my friend and I rode our bikes the long way around the block, a pair of old tongs and a plastic bag in hand. We found the bird spinning in circles on the ground, it's body twisted and unnatural. It took some time, but we finally got the bird into the plastic bag and took it to my friends father.

He reiterated that it was our duty to end its suffering. I won't go into the details of how we ended up killing it, other than to say it was quick and the most humane way either one of us could think up. Needless to say, we never shot at another animal. That memory has stuck with me all the way to adulthood, one of the moments where I knew opinions on life and death were being forged in my brain even as the events transpired before me.

Now, at 26, I found myself in a similar situation. Not responsible for the poor creatures suffering, but as a bystander obligated to do something about it. It was a pretty stark moment to be honest and I'm sorry for the little fella. :(