The other night I turned my light off to go to bed when I heard the loudest squeaking noise ever. It scared my dog so much he jumped off my bed and hid. I turned my light back on, and right next to my pretty pink lamp was a godzilla cricket.
I thought about killing it, but I too hate killing (and the crunch his huge body would make gave me shudders), so I too trapped him in a glass and slid a postcard underneath so I could release him back in to the wild. Now I am far too lazy to walk down the stairs of my apartment to reintegrate him into a bush, so I put the cup down outside my door so he could hop out and climb down the stairs himself with his giant cricket legs. The next morning when I was leaving, I walked out the door and tripped on his dead carcas. Apparantly he did not want to reintegrate. So much that he died instead. It was very sad.
