When I was a child, I loved all manner of critters. Crawling ones, flying ones and those that ran on little soft pads. Much to my parents chagrin, I was the kid constantly dragging home helpless, abandoned cats, dogs and once on vaccation a seagull hit by a car. I walked three miles, with the feathered, bewildered package, in the August sun back to the condo to alert my parents we had to call an avaian rescue organization to save it. They were constantly adding to the household list of rescued this and that. At one point we had, twelve inside cats, twelve outside dogs and 30 rescued kittens. It took up most of my spare time, all of my allowance and the majority of my Saturdays. It was my parents' idea of "say no to drugs" campaign. Keep 'em busy, broke and focused on something else.
Now that I farm, critters have become varmints and "they" have become the enemy. Not mine specificaly, but enemy to my laying hens, meat chickens and vegetable row beds.To say nothing of the fruits and vegetables that reside every season in those beds. I used to look at roaming raccons as facinating. Now I say a silent "one less chicken killer in the world" when I see one dead on the road. Mind you, I still find raccoons facinating but just not when they are pulling my sleeping hens through the cage wire or chewing off their heads and leaving the body.
I can almost be ok with a hawk that snatchs "a" hen - I know it will be dinner but have a fox sneak in and he will kill 14 in one night just seemingly for the joy of killing. I can't or at least decorum dictates that I shouldn't tell you the words that pop into my mind when I go to harvest cantaloupe only to find half of it gone...mice, rats, coyotes, possum stay out!