I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself. – D.H. Lawrence
My upstairs neighbor knocked on my door this evening while I was in the middle of preparing dinner and said that a baby bird had fallen out of the nest that had been constructed in one of the shrubs outside our apartment building. After a moment of hesitation; trying to decide on what to say and/or do, I stuttered a bit because I was a caught off guard and said okay. I opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a pair of house gloves and went down stairs.
My neighbor…already outside, pointed at the baby bird which was hopping up and down frantically in the mulch due to a damaged left wing. I watched for a moment thinking that I had never touched a living bird before and trying to reconcile the pity and fear I was feeling for this creature because it was absolutely terrified. I told myself I had to commit to action mainly because the neighbor was watching me, but also I had to do something for it, so I stalled for an additional moment to put on the gloves and then I walked parallel to the bird’s path. I actually had to steel myself before I reached down to scoop up the bird and not entirely because I was a bit squeamish, but mainly because I was feeling what this creature was feeling. It saw me coming and frantically hopped away from me and I didn’t want scare it any more then it already was, so I backed off a bit. Then I tried again and again before I actually got the bird in my hands and three thoughts danced in my mind as I walked with the bird toward the nest:
(1) I actually have a bird in my hands and this feels strange.
(2) I hope I’m not holding it too tight.
(3) I think I’m going to have to throw these gloves away.
I got to the nest and placed the bird back in it but the bird was so terrified that it hopped out the nest and landed back in the mulch. I looked down and the bird was breathing so hard and fast that I could feel the bird’s terror and fatigue. My neighbor spoke what I was thinking which was to let it be for a bit to which I was most thankful because this poor thing was actually breaking my heart. She said to me that should would figure something out and then our downstairs neighbor came out and told us that the mother and the other hatch-lings left it behind when it fell out of the nest and broke it’s wing.
For a split second I was stunned…asking myself how a mother could leave one of it’s own behind and then I realized I was assigning human notions of compassion and empathy to creatures that have none. Yet, as I walked up the stairs back to my apartment I thought, that can’t be right because every animal in nature has compassion and empathy so it is not that they do not have any, they simply have different constructs at work. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t care for their young at all. The bird’s wing was broken and I believe that this is like a horse breaking it’s leg…it’s never the same. I opened the door and walked into my apartment and thought, “the mother actually did what had to be done. She left a child behind because in her world she knew there was nothing more she could do for it and there are other hatch-lings to consider.” She did something practical, she in affect…pulled the plug. She let go of one of her own that was technically already dead.
Was she being pragmatic or compassionate? Or, was she being pragmatically compassionate?






