There's a woman who lives in the apartment bldg end of my block who feeds squirrels. As in, holds court tossing out bread crumbs or whatever on a daily basis. So squirrels are everywhere in my neighborhood. And they love to taunt my cats, chit-chittering away from the safety of a tree at my felines below. Every once in awhile the cats catch them off-guard, though, and bag one of 'em.

A few months ago one of my kids suddenly yelled out: "Hey, Popcorn is playing with a squirrel real close!" The cat had a squirrel pinned on its back next to a tree in the backyard.

Go cats.

I found a squirrel in the death position in the garage. My cat is a pretty good hunter. Anyway, I picked up the corpse to a few steps and holy Lazarus the thing came to life scaring the crap outta me. I dropped it and it crawled a few feet, obviously mortally wounded.
I had to put it out of its misery so I got a bucket of water and went behind the garage to finish it off. Carefully checking to make sure my one step below a PETA president wife and daughter are not watching, I go to work. I am holding it underwater with a rake when my 7 y/o rounds the corner.
I am frozen. She asks what I am doing and I reply that I am mixing some paint and she should go inside where it is safe.
I am soooo lucky she did not see me. I would have had some explaining to do and some tear wiping as well.