Follow Up

After I shot the skunk I threw it into the pasture. This morning I could see buzzards tearing at it from my front door. I am certain there is at least one more skunk around & it will soon be out in the field under the sun and the circling gloom of black birds too.
I feel ridiculous for hating an animal so much. It is however another useful motivation guaranteeing that this task will not linger.
While watching the carrion pick away at their own chores I don't feel any vindication or pleasure just a sense of sad nothingness. A soft whimper of indifference.