It went that way ...
As I looked down into one of the dog water bowls last night, I was greeted by the sight of a small slug inching its way around the inner wall. 'All very well' I thought 'but then you'll drown ... you always do ... and then where shall we both be? I with a corpse and you with your slug-like afterlife.'
I shouldn't help ... (sigh) ... I really shouldn't. Each time I help, things go awry. This I know from many other wee things that I have assisted.
A dilemma. A dilemma indeed. But I pushed my better instincts aside ... got a small piece of tissue and removed the slug from the bowl. I then opened the back door and shook the tissue a little in the hope of easing the slug off it and onto the floor outside.
This, I swear was my intention. My good intention. My very good intention.
However ........
As so often happens, instead of the slug being released ... my hand did its usual and didn't co-operate, it twitched randomly ... which led to the end result of both slug and piece of tissue being propelled leftwards towards the wall. And, in the silence of the night, a little wet splat was clearly heard.
I blinked ... I pondered ... I then closed the back door and went to bed.
This morning I opened the back door to let Biggest Dog out ... and, out of the corner of my eye, there was the piece of tissue. Sans slug, of course. So I can only hope that there was merely mild concussion from my 'good deed' and the slug went off and had a fine old time with all the other slugs.
It's that ... or ... maybe I shall be forever haunted by the slug's spirit. Each night it's wet little manoeuverings shall be heard across the kitchen floor. I shall sleep no more as it whispers wetly in my ear 'You call that helping ... do you?' ...
