Monday, September 29, 2008

a little mouse

What are the chances?  
I was in the backyard playing with Judy when she suddenly stopped running back to me.  As I walked closer I could see Judy gently nudging the ground.  As I moved her away, I saw it -- laying on its side.  I thought it was dead but then I saw the gentle rise and fall of its chest.  With adrenaline and speed, and Judy chasing me, we ran inside to tell Jake.  
Jake!  Jake!  Jake!  
Outside again Jake and I leaned over the fence and watched its little chest rise up and down.
It's still alive.  What do we do?
Oh no, what is it doing?  Why are its legs stretching like that?  Is it dying?
Within a few seconds there was nothing.  No rise and fall of its chest.  No breath.  No beat.
It had died and we were there.
What happened?  Was it Judy's intense fetching speed?  Was it somehow stunned or injured? Or did it just find this spot in our yard to be its last?
It made me very sad to think about why this happened.  What are the chances that we were there the moment it died.  
I have never watched anyone or anything die.
I know it is just a little mouse but aren't we all connected?  
Aren't we all worried about who the next President is going to be?  
Aren't we all worried about the economy?
Aren't we all worried about the environment?
Well, maybe not the mouse...but aren't you?
Vote Obama.
I am.


Unknown said...

I am!

Marta said...

At least someone was there to know that that little mouse lived.
On a brighter note, I am also voting for Obama!

Marissa said...

i would have felt the same about watching that poor little mouse take its last breath.

Melissa said...

It is hard, but perfectly natural. Our instinct is to feel badly for whoever is dying - perhaps it's our culture...we were created to feel that way. But it is just another kind of birth. I wonder if 'on the other-side' we experience a kind of death when we are born here???? Maybe.

A bird flew into one of our windows a few months ago. It flopped around on the cement patio for a few minutes. It finally settled, but its head was cocked upward in an un-natural position and its mouth was wide open - broken neck for sure. Every hour I checked to see if it was dead. A few times I thought it was, but no. My daughter was horrified. She said, "We can't let it suffer like that." I said, "Well what do you want me to do?" She said, "I don't know, hit it with a shovel." I said, "I can't do that. I know it's difficult, but death is natural. It probably doesn't even know what's happening." So we waited and waited and waited - total time about 3 hours. I went out to check on it again and all of a sudden it looked different - seemed more alert - looking around like "Where the heck am I?" Then it flew away into a tree - it clung to the bark and hung side-ways for a moment like "I'm okay" and then flew off into the woods! I swear it was a miracle. I said to my daughter, "Aren't you glad I didn't hit it with a shovel? Would have been killing a perfectly good bird."

~The process of Life~