My cat, Copper, woke me up at 3:30 this morning by scratching on the metal blinds (her favorite method). I called to her but she was in one of her crazy cat moods. I got up and she started running around and jumping on counters, very hyper. I think noticed that my other cat was looking at something on the ground. I poked it and it felt...squishy. I picked it up with a paper towel and took it into the kitchen for a look. It was a skink. A very mutilated skink. I thought it was dead but then I saw its little lungs breathing.
I looked it over and thought that maybe it had a chance if it was still alive. It didn't appear to have an puncture wounds or broken bones (as much as I could tell). But I watched it for a couple minutes and it really didn't move and it seemed to be in pain. I decided that I should put it out of its misery. That's a lot harder to do than I thought. I took it over to my cutting board and got out my sharpest knife to cut off its head. I tried several times to do it but I just couldn't. It was too upsetting. I don't think I could stand to see its little head decapitated or even worse, if I didn't get it done the first time.
I then remembered a story my mom told me about a bird she found mutilated by the cats. She couldn't kill it either so she came up with the idea to put it in the freezer. So I put the skink in the freezer. I hope it was not a harsh death. Poor little guy. Very sad.
