I Killed A Kitten

It was an accident. I was not thinking about the tiny kitten being out of the safe bedroom in the box, and in the living room with me, and while I was playing my Wii, I heard an adomonition from my friend to "watch the kitty" just too late, and my foot came down on part of her poor little body, and the poor soul started shaking and vomiting blood. I held her, looking for signs of life, and she started to shake more, and my friend Josh cried. We both kind of stared, and Josh picked her up. I knew it was too late, but I was numb and stunned. I came back to pick her up, with a futile hope that she might have miracously survived, but I knew it was not so.

Guilt. I was more shocked at first, then the guilt set in. I knew I had not intentionally in that moment murdered with active malice the poor kitten, but as the night wore on and I thought more about it, I realized that I had been not careful enough. Not care-full to a sufficient degree. I had not cared enough to think, "I should put her back in the room and make sure all the kittens are in the room with the door closed, as I am about to bounce back and forth playing tennis on the Wii, and this could be dangerous for a small kitten lacking the normal quick reflexes and muscles of a grown adult cat."

I realized also, as I mused more about it, that I had taken the kittens for granted; it had become a common thing, instead of a sacred thing, to have these beautiful little lives in my home, and indeed, I had also taken my beautiful Froggy, the mother, for granted, not giving her sufficient attention and care. Sure, I had been feeding her plenty -- and boy, has she been eating a lot since having these babies -- but I had not pet her and caressed her and loved on her like she wanted.

I realized this: to not care enough is to ensure that I will cause some harm to some being. It does not take cold, calculated, active malice to harm a being, and while such active malice in myself or others rightfully offends my conscience, I realized that to the poor being who is harmed, it matters little whether it was active malice or "mere" carelessness: the harm has a reality component that is equivalent in effect. Certainly in the case of active mailice, there may be additional harm, perhaps of a different character altogether, but the most observable effect varies not a tittle.

It came to my mind also that earlier that night, I had that same kitten -- or else its sister of the same coloring, I had two kittens with similar color and markings -- nipping and clawing at my feet earlier in the evening, and I remember feeling annoyed at the little tike’s "bothering" me while I was busy doing something else. I considered this, and realized that to have a pet is to have care for the pet, and that includes not putting other far less critical things above the the care of living souls. I had disdained and been distemperate about the small kitten "bothering" my comfort, that I failed to remember what is the most important thing of all: life. And not just mylife, but the life of All.

Later, I picked up Froggy, and held a mother who had lost one of her offspring, and I pet her gently, and I kissed her, and I re-membered the notion that a pet is a privilege and a pet is to be honored and loved, in return for bringing the beauty of life into the home.

I spent more time with Froggy than I had in a while. Next time she jumps in front of my computer, I will stop before I get annoyed, and I will consider whether what I am doing really is so critical it must be done this moment. If it is indeed that critical, then I will with calm mind be able to lovingly place Froggy aside, give her a loving pat on the head, and assure her I will soon give her the attention she is asking for, but that I must finish the task at end.

More often than that, I will pause, and I will remember, This activity I am doing, is not that critical, and I can resume this at any time, really; right now, the wonderful life in front of me is bringing me the gift of life, and I would be perverse to reject it.