- Jul 11, 2001
- 40,874
- 10,222
- 136
It happened yesterday. I was skating to my workout and there was a car double-parked and as I approached it, the driver took her foot off the brake, put it on the accelerator and moved off. What remained was a squirrel convulsing in its death throes. I was dimly aware that the creature had just darted across the street and it had instinctively stopped and hid for a split second under the back tire of the car. Unlucky for it, the driver simultaneously took her foot off the brake and the car backed up just a hair... enough to crush the little creature's body just enough to insure its death but not enough to put it out of its misery. The driver was completely unaware that this had happened. I stopped and observed the animal's agony, knowing there was little I could do. A driver going the opposite direction stopped at the stop sign facing this scene and I could see her shaking her head and obviously distraught at the spectacle. When I returned from my workout I tried to find a city agency to remove the corpse but they were closed for the weekend.
I am reminded of this poem:
The Fly by William Blake
Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
I am reminded of this poem:
The Fly by William Blake
Little Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.