I like to think that I have a belief in the philosophies of the Buddha. I want to be good and nice and believe the I could not hurt a fly. Recently I have looking into Pagan and the way of nature. I have had pets growing up and cried when they died. The last time cried over an animal was the day that Spike (a happy little female cockatiel) died. I watched her take her last breath and I was basket case.
When did I become a murderer, a hypocrite to what I believe? This morning I lifted the cover off of Butchy's (the male cockatiel, Spike's Mr.) cage. There was a small little critter in the bottom of the cage. As I startled it, it ran to the floor and got stuck on one of the sticky boards. As the mouse squeeled and squealed I picked up the sticky board with the mouse trying its hardest to get away, and I put it out on the back porch in the freezing weather hoping that the cold weather would cause it to die of hypothermia.