areyoulistening

I have more free time on my hands now since I don’t work at the Daily News anymore. Some of the classes started this week but it went get crazy for a few weeks or so. So I went for a run the other day around the ol’ hood and saw two injured birds (that were clearly on their way to being dead) struggling in the road. The first one didn’t make much of an effort to get of my way and that is how I knew it was hurt. It hopped a few inches away and that was when I noticed it had lost a leg and was bleeding out. The second bird was jumping up and down while bumping it’s head against the curb. I’m pretty sure he had broken a wing and was attempting to fly.

I don’t care about birds but it was still unsettling to see something struggle to survive. I watched the bird attempt to fly with it’s broken wing and couldn’t help but feel bad for the little guy. I thought about stomping on him to put him out of his misery but chickened (no pun intended…not!) out. I wonder how long he spent flying himself into the curb? No doubt he died a terrible death.

Which reminds that the smaller cat my family has, Casey, brought a dead bird into the house and was playing with it last week. She rolled on her back, threw the corpse into the air and walked around the house with it hanging from her mouth. My father finally got it from her and said that she had snapped its little neck. I’ve seen the cats we’ve had slowly kill things a number of times. They often injury their prey and than let it wobble away for a few feet before they swat it again or bite it a little bit. In the end, the poor thing probably dies from having a fucking heart attack out of fear. I’m no Dr. Doolittle or anything but I think I would die of fright if a giant cat played a game of death dance with me.

Last weekend I also went to a beach town in Connecticut and saw hundreds of dead fish floating in the harbor. Dead fish? Dying birds? It is only a matter of time before the river runs red with the blood of the non-believers.

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