Yesterday, as I hiked from a parking lot to a classroom at UNF a dragonfly with a wingspan of three feet (or inches...all the same) scared the fearlessness out of me as it flew right in front of my face. It then suddenly landed right in front of me on the sidewalk and I stepped the life out of it and then felt bad at the thought that maybe it was sorry for scarring me and was humbly kneeling before me in penitence. So I will add the poor thing to the list of animals I have killed along with the weapon used in each case: 1) a pigeon with a paintball gun who may have lived although we think a cat may have finished him off...i just know that it fell onto a metal shed beneath the tree it was peacefully perched upon and that it had a very orange chest the last time I saw it 2) a seagull with a soda can full of sea shells (didn't actually throw it but aided in the baiting process...aka chip thrower) and we didn't actually kill it although I wanted to just to put it out of its misery like I did for the 3) wounded bat, who was limping along in the UNF library, with the heaviest book I could find, 4) a crab at the beach who was picking a fight with me...or running away...can't remember...with a sandal.
Disclaimer: I love animals. Proof: a few weeks ago I house sat for my former professor who has three dogs, a cat, six guinea pigs, two turtles, six fish, two iguanas, a frog and boa constrictor, all of which are still alive.