jumping_spider

So I was watching my cat eat a moth today. She loves 'em. It's quite disturbing to watch her kill them through repeated blows. Usually by the second or third the poor thing has shredded wings and by the forth is moving in jerky little fits. My cat is fascinated by all of it. At least until it stops moving. What do insects think of us? Scientists say they are pure instinct and they seem right about that. . .but who knows. All pain inflicted on livingthings seems to have an echo. From that first slain fly. . .some of us escalate into killing our own kind. What brings about the mindset of a killer? Angst? Contempt? Sometimes I think about the sheer numbers of dead every day. And then I think of my own fragile tenouse hold on life. Every moment holds the promise of destruction. It makes ones skin tingel, does it not.