Animals

I don't really want to think about this again but I am anyway so I thought it might make me feel a little better to share.

Yesterday I ran this ridiculous errand for Chris.  He asked me to bring a tool to the Freight House where he was preparing for a show.  As it turned out he didn't need it, ran out of time or something, and didn't even realize I was calling him as I was hovering outside the cones at the ball park.  I texted, then called him twice and then drove off in frustration, as I was blocking a lane.  He called back while I was arguing with downtown game day traffic and apologized.  I was flustered and did not remember to go the counterintuitive way to the freeway.  Instead I did my ridiculous route of driving before figuring out the best way to go.  I always think it would not make sense to weave over to the freeway- that it's about the same distance to wherever I'm going.  That is totally untrue and a giant waste of gas but there I was weaving through ridiculousness and urging my confused little brain to find a more reasonable way to get to the grocery store.  I remembered Airway Drive (Doesn't that just SOUND easier?) and turned left on McCarran from South Virginia.  (Yes, I made it all the way down there before finding a less congested way.)  This is a very busy intersection with three left turn lanes.  I was in the middle lane and I was horrified to see a big white dog trotting down the right lane towards the light at Smithridge Drive.  Jesus!  Where the hell did he come from?  I watched for traffic behind him and slowed way down.

I called Animal Control and was relieved to see him run up across the dirt towards Sears.  I turned in on Neil and found him in the parking lot.  I tried to call to him but he barely looked at me and kept trotting along so I followed him.  He had a bandana around his neck but I couldn't see if he had a collar or tags.  I called Animal Control back to update them on his position and followed him down Neil and onto Delucchi Lane.  I drove slow and stayed behind him as he crossed the streets, protecting him from other cars.  On Delucchi he kept to the shady grass and I put my hazards on as he kept moving down the street.  Animal Control spotted me and turned on their lights.  I pulled over to let them take over.  We waved to each other.  Another animal control officer drove up and I went on my way, suddenly feeling very good about choosing such a backwards way to get to the grocery store.

I wish I could have spent the rest of the day feeling relieved.  Hopefully the dog was wearing a collar and his owners were already looking for him.  Hopefully if his owners sucked then he'll be adopted by a marathon runner.  At the very least, he didn't get run over and he got some water on a hot day.

On the way home with my groceries I saw a bird in the road.  It was trying to pick something up, maybe food.  I am so used to birds moving out of the way just in time but I also periodically see squashed birds. This time I got to see it happen.  I was in the left lane and the bird apparently felt safe in the right lane but failed to notice the car approaching.  I didn't see if the tire got his wing or not, but he rolled from the rush of air underneath the car.  I watched in the rearview in horror as he ran up on the median and across the southbound side.  He made it out of the road, but he didn't fly.  I cried.

Maybe he was just stunned- I certainly hope so.  I felt so sad about cars in general and wished we still walked everywhere.  I started to feel like maybe I wasn't supposed to find the dog and had upset the balance.  I wished I could do something.  My counselor and I talked about animals recently and she asked if I would want to be the kind of person that didn't care.  Well, of course not.  Later I thought I should take comfort in that I hadn't just driven by the dog.  Maybe I should have tried to find the bird.  As horrible as this sounds, I tried to relate it to people because I just don't feel as sad about people.  Sometimes people get hit by cars and sometimes they don't survive.  It's terrible when that happens and it's not as if I celebrate.  If I hear it on the news I think, "That sucks."  If I know the person or their story I can get very sad about it.  It just feels so much worse with animals, partially because they don't know anything is wrong and because it's nobody's job to prevent them from doing dangerous things.  They are innocent.  Yes, so are children, but someone is supposed to be watching them.  You could say someone should be watching the dog, but they are escape artists and shit happens.  I hope he had a collar or was chipped.  I hope the bird was only temporarily stunned and not hurt.  If he was, I hope he heals.  If not, I hope he dies quickly and provides food for some other animal.

One of the books we read last semester was Mary Austin's Land of Little Rain.  She wrote about watching and learning about the desert.  She wrote about water and plants and people, but she also watched the animals that lived there.  There were all kinds of wildlife and she learned so much about each and how they had adapted to the desert.  About the bunnies, though, all she could say was that they seemed to only serve the purpose of food for other animals.  It's hard to take that because they are so cute and all, but I have been trying to remind myself that life cycles exist as does evolution.

But I cried anyway.  I came home and hugged Solo, who welcomed the love.  I sat and held her and thought about how she fell off the balcony twice and how we lost her for a week, and how we lost Laxy.  I thought about how Solo is turning 6 and how she sleeps on my pillow.  I wondered if I could be grateful every time I came home to find that the house was not on fire and the animals were not dead in the bathtub from smoke inhalation.  Probably not, but appreciation is at least usually automatic.  Even the cat greets me.  In fact, these days- since Riley has been in Topaz- Solo is often the only one to greet me when I come home.  The lazy Pit Bull is still sleeping in the bedroom, but she will wag her tail when I come in.