Wildlife torture

Living in a farm until I was 10, me and my brother got used to extreme violence towards animals at a very young age. Sheeps having their throat slitted, pigs eviscerated, rabbits hanged on hooks ... Mind you, none of this was done with cruelty. It was just a farm, and we were eating everything we were killing.

Kids are kids though, and one day that my grand father had a few ducks to slaughter, we asked if we could do it. We saw it as nothing more or less than a game, and we were all excited when the duck's blood spilled at us and their beheaded bodies ran all by themselves for 10 seconds. We were 9 and 6 at the time, and there are a bunch of other memories like that one. They're actually pleasant to remember, even if today, I'm unable to understand the kids we were back then.

At the same period, there were hens at my gardn mother's place. Me, my bro and my cousin loved to chase them. We would take long wood sticks and chase them away from one end of the huge garden to the other. Never actually hitting them, that was still really cruel, and we were seriously scolded everytime we got caught, which wasnt really often since my grandmother had no way to monitor what we were doing outside.

Still because of living in a farm, we hated rodents. They're a pain to have in a farm, and eventhough we had cats, there were still mice and rats. We often tried to hunt them with stones, but that never really worked. One day though, we found a mouse nest full of baby mice in a wall. They were a dozen, all resting in the confortable nest her mother set for them, looking all cute. Guess what? Our first reaction was to splatter them with our feets! That's one episode I'm real ashamed of.

Even more than the joy of killing the ducks that were going to die anyway and that we actually ate, killing those baby mice makes me feel uneasy to this day. Why though? Technically, it was the right thing to do, just as killing the ducks was.

I remember it took time for me and my bro to get used to the life in Paris when we moved from the farm when I was 10. That's when we became "normal" kids, I guess. =/

Jam it back in, in the dark.