The most horrific thing happened on Saturday whilst I was gardening. I had taken over the mowing of our unusually hilly lawn from Chris - we were road testing our new flymo with it's ferocious full metal blade - and had worked my way towards the bottom of the garden, close to the blair witch project remains of our bonfire.
As I absentmindedly mowed over a patch with a dip in it where the grass was a little longer I felt something unusual - a thud and an interruption in the sound and feel of the mower. I looked down to see a frog. A large frog at that. It was just about in one piece but I had ripped into its flesh and I could see the deep tear in its back legs and a huge gash across its side where entrails were now peeking. I looked away in shock and said fuck.
I looked back and the helpless thing was still moving - not mobile but definitely moving and I could see its wide eyes looking around wildly. I said fuck again - a few times this time. I felt shocked, guilty, sad and a little bit panicky, it was very upsetting.
My first reaction was to make it more comfortable before it died which it was inevitably going to. I put on a glove which I had been using to pull thorny brambles up with and picked the frog up. I took it to the bottom of the garden with the intention of putting it in the stream. I threw the frog down to the water and even before it hit the stream I knew that this was a bad idea.
As it sank in the water I could see it struggling to swim to the top for air but obviously didn't have the strength - or indeed the ability with it's damaged body - to do so. I watched it twitching on the way down to the bottom of the stream where it must have drowned. I walked away feeling terrible and a few seconds later went back to the edge of the stream. It was still there on the bottom but now not moving. Chris started the lawn mower up again so I went back to where I had maimed the creature and did a quick check through all the remaining long grass for more wildlife. When I returned to the stream a little later the frog had gone.
My first reaction was to make it more comfortable before it died which it was inevitably going to. I put on a glove which I had been using to pull thorny brambles up with and picked the frog up. I took it to the bottom of the garden with the intention of putting it in the stream. I threw the frog down to the water and even before it hit the stream I knew that this was a bad idea.
As it sank in the water I could see it struggling to swim to the top for air but obviously didn't have the strength - or indeed the ability with it's damaged body - to do so. I watched it twitching on the way down to the bottom of the stream where it must have drowned. I walked away feeling terrible and a few seconds later went back to the edge of the stream. It was still there on the bottom but now not moving. Chris started the lawn mower up again so I went back to where I had maimed the creature and did a quick check through all the remaining long grass for more wildlife. When I returned to the stream a little later the frog had gone.
