Human Nature
Warning: The following entry is a Rob Rant. Colorful language uncharacteristic of Rob's day to day persona is present. Read at on at your own risk.
I just had one of those moments that lessened my faith in my fellow man. It was one of those "anti-children" incidents, and not one of those screaming bohemians of doom in the grociery store that usually aggravate me. I was driving out of the Wal-Mart parking lot when I noticed three boys on bikes. They must have been around eight or nine years old. They were stopped between a couple of bushes fixated on something the smallest one held in his hands. He turned the item over, dumping its contents onto the pavement along with the original item in question. Then they got on their bikes and rode off cackling.
I don't know what it was, but something made me turn around so I could investigate. What the smallest nose miner had held in his hands was a bird's nest. What he dumped onto the pavement were four chicks. It's a good thing those sperm-and-egg omlettes were gone because I may have run them over.
Thankfully, the nest was still in tact and the chicks were uninjured. For a moment I was hesitant to do anything. I wondered if the chicks/nest had my scent the mother would not return. It seems I heard it somewhere, but I couldn't recall if it had come from a reputable source. Besides, the nest/chicks probably already had the scent of those three rat bastards, so I doubted my aroma of Speedstick could worsen the problem. I placed each of the chicks back in the nest and put the nest in the adjacent bush. I couldn't identify where it originally was or even if I was putting it in the right bush, so I put it in a spot where it wouldn't be so conspicuous. The chicks looked up at me opening their beaks to beg for food. One of them even hopped out onto my arm. I was somewhat amazed that they weren't cowering after what those rotten crotch fruits had just put them through. I made sure the nest was secure and returned to my car. I waited just a bit to see of their mother would return. She did and was probing around the wrong bush. Eventually, she moved over to the plant I had placed the nest in, and I felt a little better.
I hope those spawnings of Apollyon don't regularly ride through that area. Now I'm concerned that they may return tomorrow, stop to look for the nest's/chicks' remains, find them where I put them, and reenact the original carnage.
*Sigh*
I realize I sound like a rampaging hippie, but so what. People often suffer because of their own choices, but animals often suffer senselessly because of people. The whole incident just set me off.
I just had one of those moments that lessened my faith in my fellow man. It was one of those "anti-children" incidents, and not one of those screaming bohemians of doom in the grociery store that usually aggravate me. I was driving out of the Wal-Mart parking lot when I noticed three boys on bikes. They must have been around eight or nine years old. They were stopped between a couple of bushes fixated on something the smallest one held in his hands. He turned the item over, dumping its contents onto the pavement along with the original item in question. Then they got on their bikes and rode off cackling.
I don't know what it was, but something made me turn around so I could investigate. What the smallest nose miner had held in his hands was a bird's nest. What he dumped onto the pavement were four chicks. It's a good thing those sperm-and-egg omlettes were gone because I may have run them over.
Thankfully, the nest was still in tact and the chicks were uninjured. For a moment I was hesitant to do anything. I wondered if the chicks/nest had my scent the mother would not return. It seems I heard it somewhere, but I couldn't recall if it had come from a reputable source. Besides, the nest/chicks probably already had the scent of those three rat bastards, so I doubted my aroma of Speedstick could worsen the problem. I placed each of the chicks back in the nest and put the nest in the adjacent bush. I couldn't identify where it originally was or even if I was putting it in the right bush, so I put it in a spot where it wouldn't be so conspicuous. The chicks looked up at me opening their beaks to beg for food. One of them even hopped out onto my arm. I was somewhat amazed that they weren't cowering after what those rotten crotch fruits had just put them through. I made sure the nest was secure and returned to my car. I waited just a bit to see of their mother would return. She did and was probing around the wrong bush. Eventually, she moved over to the plant I had placed the nest in, and I felt a little better.
I hope those spawnings of Apollyon don't regularly ride through that area. Now I'm concerned that they may return tomorrow, stop to look for the nest's/chicks' remains, find them where I put them, and reenact the original carnage.
*Sigh*
I realize I sound like a rampaging hippie, but so what. People often suffer because of their own choices, but animals often suffer senselessly because of people. The whole incident just set me off.