It Makes a Difference to the Sheep

Walking down the brick-paved sidewalks of Pennsylvania Avenue near my office on an incomparably beautiful afternoon, my attention was attracted by a bird fluttering along the sidewalk. Looking a bit closer I concluded that the bird was seriously injured in some way as to render it incapable of flying. Instead it thrashed about in an obviously agonized fashion. My reactions:
--instant sympathy. Why? Perhaps there is an instinctual respect for life that forms a deep part of all of us. I was reminded of the passage in Mencius

'When I say that all men have a mind which cannot bear to see the sufferings of others, my meaning may be illustrated thus:-- even now-a-days, if men suddenly see a child about to fall into a well, they will without exception experience a feeling of alarm and distress. They will feel so, not as a ground on which they may gain the favour of the child's parents, nor as a ground on which they may seek the praise of their neighbours and friends, nor from a dislike to the reputation of having been unmoved by such a thing.

Rather, we act this way because we are human and that is how humans react.


--an impetus to action: I need to do something for this poor creature. But what? I don’t have any experience in treating animals. Where am I supposed to take it? To my office? And do what? I walked away in impotent guilt.



--guilty satisfaction that I still live, breathe, walk, and can enjoy a beautiful afternoon