The Seer of Death
I watched a dragonfly die today. Well, I didn't actually watch it die. I watched it dying. It was a beautiful, full sized dragonfly, probably 5 to 6 inches. I saw something squirming on the ground and walked closer to it. It had brillant blue eyes and a green body. I was going to flip it over so that it could fly off again. But on second inspection, I noticed that it only had two wings, and they were both on one side. Somehow the two other wings had been ripped off. I'm not entirely sure how this could have happened as there didn't seem to be any other damage to the insect other than the missing of the two wings. The probably is that even if I had flipped it over, it wouldn't have been able to do anything and probably would have reflipped itself and squirmed itself to death...which, unfortunately, seemed it's fate anyways. I watched it for a couple of minutes, and, not being able to bear it anymore (or the 110 degree heat), turned away and verbally said, to no one in particular, as no one was around, that I hoped it died quickly simply out of pity for it.
I should have killed it. Put it out of its misery and agony. But I just couldn't. Even though it was an insect and most people would have little problems squashing it, I just couldn't bring myself to it. Instead it sat squirming.
There was one time, back when I was in high school or college, and at the work camp I went to, there was a wounded raccoon. It had been hit by car, its back probably broken. It couldn't move and just cried in pain...not that I blame it, but raccoon cries are not pretty sounds. Someone from our church took a shovel and killed it. It wasn't out of cruelty, in fact, quite the opposite. He put it out of its pain. Fortunately, I wasn't there to see it. I wouldn't have been able to bear it. The thought of having to kill something is unbearable. Yes, in the long run it was better for the animal, but still.
I was outside with my dog about a year ago and stepped on a young garter snake. It couldn't have been more than 8 inches long (which is about a third of the length of a full grown garter snake). When I stepped on it, it didn't die. Its middle was crushed. Again, it writhed in agony because it wasn't dead and should have been. It probably wanted to be, if snakes can want. This was my fault. I should have had the decency to just stomp it and put it out of its pain. But I couldn't. Again, I let the animal die a slow, painful death. It eventually died and I carried it out of the yard so no one else would trample it as I had done.
In all three of the cases I felt terrible because of inability to, in the long run, help these animals. Yes, one was an insect and one was a snake, two creatures that most people would avoid and have no problem finishing off. I don't know what it is, it's something about the knowledge that I had been directly responsible for the death of these animals. It just doesn't seem right.
Instead, I just feel sorry for them wishing I had the courage to put them out of their pain. Knowing that I could help them, and instead I agonize over my inability to do so.
It's so much easier to help something when, after it's all over, it realizes that you really were trying to help it, even if it doesn't seem that way before hand. Like the bat incident. Once I got it out of the house, it probably looked back and was like "oh, him chasing me around the house, throwing a towel at me like a madman, was actually him trying to help me". But when you kill something, it has no concept of that. Because it physically never experiences the help that you were providing. Do animals go to Heaven? Or have an afterlife or whatever a person believes?
Maybe I just don't want to be the last thing that these creatures see. One would think that that would kill the animals alone. Is it my own selfishness that keeps me from helping these animals (and I keep saying "helping" and I really believe it would have been helping)? My own fear of having to kill something even though it would be better. It certainly doesn't make me feel any better knowing that these animals are in pain, so it must be something else. But what?
Later in the day I went back to see the dragonfly again, for, I don't know what. It was gone. I can only hope that it died quickly and was spared much more pain, or sprouted extra wings and flew away.
Hey, I can hope, can't I?
I should have killed it. Put it out of its misery and agony. But I just couldn't. Even though it was an insect and most people would have little problems squashing it, I just couldn't bring myself to it. Instead it sat squirming.
There was one time, back when I was in high school or college, and at the work camp I went to, there was a wounded raccoon. It had been hit by car, its back probably broken. It couldn't move and just cried in pain...not that I blame it, but raccoon cries are not pretty sounds. Someone from our church took a shovel and killed it. It wasn't out of cruelty, in fact, quite the opposite. He put it out of its pain. Fortunately, I wasn't there to see it. I wouldn't have been able to bear it. The thought of having to kill something is unbearable. Yes, in the long run it was better for the animal, but still.
I was outside with my dog about a year ago and stepped on a young garter snake. It couldn't have been more than 8 inches long (which is about a third of the length of a full grown garter snake). When I stepped on it, it didn't die. Its middle was crushed. Again, it writhed in agony because it wasn't dead and should have been. It probably wanted to be, if snakes can want. This was my fault. I should have had the decency to just stomp it and put it out of its pain. But I couldn't. Again, I let the animal die a slow, painful death. It eventually died and I carried it out of the yard so no one else would trample it as I had done.
In all three of the cases I felt terrible because of inability to, in the long run, help these animals. Yes, one was an insect and one was a snake, two creatures that most people would avoid and have no problem finishing off. I don't know what it is, it's something about the knowledge that I had been directly responsible for the death of these animals. It just doesn't seem right.
Instead, I just feel sorry for them wishing I had the courage to put them out of their pain. Knowing that I could help them, and instead I agonize over my inability to do so.
It's so much easier to help something when, after it's all over, it realizes that you really were trying to help it, even if it doesn't seem that way before hand. Like the bat incident. Once I got it out of the house, it probably looked back and was like "oh, him chasing me around the house, throwing a towel at me like a madman, was actually him trying to help me". But when you kill something, it has no concept of that. Because it physically never experiences the help that you were providing. Do animals go to Heaven? Or have an afterlife or whatever a person believes?
Maybe I just don't want to be the last thing that these creatures see. One would think that that would kill the animals alone. Is it my own selfishness that keeps me from helping these animals (and I keep saying "helping" and I really believe it would have been helping)? My own fear of having to kill something even though it would be better. It certainly doesn't make me feel any better knowing that these animals are in pain, so it must be something else. But what?
Later in the day I went back to see the dragonfly again, for, I don't know what. It was gone. I can only hope that it died quickly and was spared much more pain, or sprouted extra wings and flew away.
Hey, I can hope, can't I?
Labels: Confessions, Learn Your Lessons, Life As It Is
finally typed by Ph at 4:36 PM
3 Comments:
Beautiful post. I think it's better to put them out of their misery. I just wish we could show that same compassion for our fellow humans as well.
I think it's better to put them out of misery as well, I just can't do it.
And with humans at least you could know whether or not they wanted to be put out of their misery...animals you're just kinda guessing.
Good point.
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