Widdle yukkie poo!
There was a slug on my rhubarb – a baby slug. Awwww! I let it crawl around on my thumb for a while; it left an ickle trail of slime.
Allowing something to leave a trail of slime on your thumb creates an inviolable bond of hospitality, so I couldn’t just pour on the salt. I ditched the baby slug on a tree trunk far away from my garden. It exuded a slimy rope and rappelled down, twisting in the wind as it searched for suitable habitat. It stretched out its eye spots with all the exuberance of youth!
I hope it gets eaten by a bird.