I shot a bird with a b-b gun. I was like twelve, and my uncle told me to take the b-b gun and shoot any crows or birds of prey that tried to attack his rabbit hutches. There was this green bird that landed, and it had lots of different colors on it. I shot it a couple of times and it died. I walked up to the bird, and saw that it was a Parakeet, most likely someone's pet or an escapee from a local pet shop. I have never picked up a b-b gun since

GIVE ME MY HEAD BACK!!!!

I did the same thing it was a little chickadee bird it was about 30 yards out and nailed it i never thought i would acctually hit the little guy the ground was snow covered and he dropped like a stone and bright red blood ran from his neck as i watched him take his last gasping breath... i had almost forgotten this one maybe this was the worst thing ive done...i was only 13 but i knew better than to shoot a birds :-(

I shot a mockingbird that was on my roof with a BB gun. The only thing the poor little bird did was sing and hop from roof to roof. The sound was annoying me so I walked outside and shot him. I remember not feeling any emotion when I pulled the trigger. He fell off the roof into my front yard ... when I went around a saw him he couldn't use his wing. He just sat there in the yard looking at my with his wing all bent in half. When I got closer he tried to fly away but he couldn't, he would just flap his broken wing and not gain altitude. I remember the thoughts echoing in my mind "oh God, what have I done?". It is so senseless, all he wanted to do was sing. He annoyed me, so I destroyed him. What right did I have to meddle with one of God's creatures? It would have been more merciful if he had just died, but I didn't have the heart to finish him off. When I walked closer to him, he ran across the street and under a neighbours fence. I could not follow him at this point. I am deeply sorry for what I have done to this poor creature. I keep wanting to try and find him to help him, or to see if he is OK. I know the outcome, however ... nature is cruel. I can picture him in my mind just sitting in the grass somewhere unable to use his wing and waiting to die ... just like how he was sitting in my front yard, not moving.