Karma, Karma, Karma Ka-Snail-ion

This morning out walking the dogs we met up with one of our usual dog-walking friends who is the kind of vegetarian that feels the need to move snails out of the path so they won't get crushed. She picks one up, gets ready to place it in the very high weeds (April showers bring towering April weedy flowers) and Mookie runs up from behind her and in his innocently oblivious way, bumps into her snail-carrying hand. Snail fails to the ground with a crunch. Amy and I both laugh at bitter fate.

And now I'm worried.