A warning: This post contains nothing about Crohn’s, IBD, SCD, or anything else. I just didn’t have any other place to share it, so I’m sharing it here.
When I was young, I got a big thrill out of killing small animals. Not in some kind of creepy serial killer sort of way… I didn’t torture them, or use my hands, or kill pets. But give me a slingshot or a BB gun, and the squirrels in the neighborhood were suddenly in grave danger. I don’t fully grasp, even now, why I found it entertaining, and I’m not at all certain that it matters. It’s important here because it was on my mind heavily when, many years ago, I started making a concerted effort to become a more compassionate and empathetic person. That work continues, as I expect it will for the rest of my life. But I am now, without question, more compassionate and empathetic than I was as a 12 year old boy.
And so it was with no small amount of internal conflict that killed a critter last night. On purpose.
My Cranky Gut 