My worst lawn mowing fear was realized today. I was cutting a path when out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of red, it had already happened. A frog, not a toad, a frog, had been killed by my lawn mowing. I’ve never even seen a frog on my property, only toads. They are so much more svelt, more elegant, more faerie-ish, and half it’s head was missing now. That’s not faerish-ish at all. There was nothing to be done, there was no reaction time to have been quicker with, no attention to have been paid, they were green on green then they were gone. 

I finished mowing the lawn then I came back for him and buried him. I did it quick because it was buggy, and that made me feel bad. But at least he was buried. It wasn’t with quite the pomp afforded the snake I killed with a shovel accidentally while trying to help it escape a fire I had lit, but that was a tragedy of a different sort entirely. Far more prolonged.

It makes me think now, upon reflection, of Consider The Lobster, the exceptional essay by David Foster Wallace. He writes about the gastronomical considerations of humans and how we put our taste above not only the lives, but the unimaginable suffering and pain of non-humans, and sometimes even humans. I don’t think he considered that last bit, that’s a little addition by yours truly. 

I have known that it was possible, potentially likely, and even inevitable that I’d kill something while mowing the lawn. I knew that it might’ve already happened without my noticing, though, I do think I’d notice. I pay close attention and I’ve seen many small, dead animals on my yard from predation. I can’t say how many escaped my notice, but only a few, I hope. 

Despite that knowledge I did not decide to stop mowing my lawn and turn the whole thing to pasture for the sake of un-slaughtered frogs, toads, and mice. To say nothing of the insects that live in flowering pasture. I prioritized my lawn over the approaching murder I would commit. Or at least Manslaughter, or at least animalslaughter, unwitting certainly. 

I know that driving is risky, but I don’t see it as inevitably resulting in my killing someone with negligence. If I did I wouldn’t drive.

There’s a line somewhere where risk of suffering and death changes priorities. Animals just count for less. That makes me a bit sad, but I eat them every day. Animals, some of them smarter than my dog, I eat and I let people who aren’t as nice as me do the killing. 

So it goes. 

It reminds me of the tweet regarding corpse-ratios:
There’s a corpse:water ratio governing your swims.
Most people wouldn’t swim in a pool with a corpse in it.
But everyone is fine to swim in the ocean, which has a ton of corpses in it.
Therefore, everyone has a corpse-to-water ratio that they would or would not accept.

Maybe that’s stupid.