So today as I got home from Confession, I saw that a little squirrel had been killed right outside of my house! It was so sad! I hate to see God's little creatures squished all over the road, but it makes me especially sad when it's right outside my window and I can see it every time I come, go, or eat dinner.
So I asked my dad his opinion on what to do and he said to get a shovel and put it in the trash bag and put it in the trashcan in the back yard.
Well, I was having difficulty scraping him up because I didn't want to squish him (he was freshly killed, no rigor mortis, so he was very floppy) so my dad came out and helped me scoot him on there with a stick.
Poor little guy!
It reminded me of this story about a dog and her baby squirrel.
In conclusion, dead squirrels make me sad.
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