Yesterday as we were walking down the hill to a barbecue, Matt and my dad stopped to look at something, and then told me not to look. Naturally I looked back. Lying on the ground was what appeared to be a little rubber animal - like a floppy chicken. It was really a baby bird with no fur, splatted on the ground, but intact, like it had done a belly flop. But as I peered closer, I saw it begin to move. The poor little thing was struggling to go somewhere. And it wasn't going to make it.
It had clearly fallen out of its nest far too early. I wanted to stop and help it, but we didn't know what to do. Then I suggested that maybe we should kill it, but that was vetoed as well. So we just walked on, leaving a tiny, unfeathered baby bird waiting to die on the sidewalk.
First an egg, then a baby bird. What's next?
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