I find it impossible to kill any creature, I even open the window for a fly or wasp. I shoo mice out of the compost heap and garage; I pick up every bird which has flown into a window and prop it up somewhere safe until it has recovered. Every dead bird or mole I find is buried with full honours.
It’s a good thing we have no poisonous snakes and other dangerous creatures; I’d probably see them off the premises with a rucksack full of goodies and a map to the nearest animal shelter.
Whenever a bee loses its way and ends up in the house, usually bashing into the window pane again and again, I try to save it by means of a clear plastic cup and a piece of card. Most of the time I succeed. UK bees are on the endangered species list and we must look after them to safeguard our own future.
This morning before breakfast I found a huge bumble bee in the conservatory. It looked dead, flattened and legs akimbo, not surprising after twelve hours in solitary confinement without food or drink. Clearing it away after breakfast I pushed it a little and suddenly the legs twitched. Ah, signs of life, I thought, and immediately the full rescue package came into effect. I picked it up very carefully, took it outside and pushed it gently deep into a peony. A few minutes later it moved again.
The bumble bee, legs still akimbo, shoved its bottom around and straightened its wings. After a further five minutes of immobility it moved again, climbing further into the flower head and visibly disturbing the petals as it moved in and out.
Fifteen minutes later I went out again to check on the humble bumble’s progress and what do you know, it was climbing about with small sacks of pollen on its legs, making for the way out. The next time I looked it had gone. Mission accomplished!