I am a redneck.
So the other night, Joey and I decided to exact revenge on the toad that almost killed our little muffin. Okay, Doc did not almost die, or nearly almost die. He was just really sick and miserable. And NOBODY will make my baby sick and miserable; let this be a lesson to all.
How do you get a toad to leave your yard? Do you bait it over the fence with some tasty bugs? Not in this family. In this family, you shoot it.
Wait a minute, wait a minute. Before you go calling the authorities, no firearms were used in a residential neighborhood (much to my dismay). We used a BB gun.
The first night it was pouring rain and cold, so no toads were out and about. But last night, as I was taking Doc out (on his leash) for his bedtime pee, there it was. The big one. This was one big effing toad, let me tell you. Look at your hand. Spread out your fingers. That’s how big this M-Fer was. I pulled Doc back inside and ran to the bathroom door, which was closed because Joey was taking a shower, and yelled “Joey! Come quick! The big toad is on the patio! Come shoot it!”
“I’m taking a shower! You shoot it!”
“I don’t know how!”
*Rustling, shower curtain opening* “You are so ridiculous.”
And so, Joey shot the toad out the back door, with a towel wrapped around his waist.
We are rednecks.
The worst part is, the stupid thing didn’t die after being shot 3 times. I had to shovel him up and toss him over the fence into the neighbor’s yard (insert Asian neighbor eating toad joke here). And then the guilt kicked in. That was a big dude. I looked into his eyes. He didn’t deserve to die… I felt REALLY bad. He probably lived a peaceful life out on that patio for YEARS. And now he was going to suffer and die because we shot him in the leg and head with a BB gun.
After I shoveled him over the fence and heard the terrible plop he made when hitting the ground, I turned around and…. There were toads everywhere. At least 20 of them. They had come back to get revenge…. On ME. Gulp.
Ok I’m kidding, but wouldn’t that make a great horror movie? Anyway, lesson is learned. I’m not a hunter. I didn’t even shoot the thing, but I still feel guilty. The only good that has come out of this is that there is one less toad out there for Doc to bite and get sick from. And I now know that I need to get a silencer for my gun because I know damn well that thing wouldn’t live if it was shot 3 times with a .22 bullet…
I am a redneck.
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