The weather was so nice this weekend, so we were sitting outside on the patio. With the pellet gun. Mr. Sharpshooter patiently waited and pulled the trigger on a chipmunk. It writhed and spazzed out for a second then all was still. We ran up the hill to remove it so that Ruby would not have herself a snack. It had died with a nut in its mouth, shot through the back of the head.

I thought I wouldn't be bothered by the killing of vermin, but it is kind of grotesque. Maybe the murder of an animal is magnified by the suburban environment. In the woods, one might feel more primal.

We also secured the garden with a wire mesh cage, but it appears to be too late as most of my plants are gone or in bad shape. I think some more little Alvins and their big brother squirrels should die. I am tired of my backyard being a site of infestation. I'm going to try the bucket-bird seed trick once I finally get around to buying some bird seed.