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You can’t rescue everybody.

21. September 2006


Yesterday, on my way to training, as I was walking across campus, I saw a small plexiglass carrier on one of the wooden benches. In it was an adolescent chicken. In front of it was a hand-written note saying, “Please take me with you.”
It broke my heart.

I wanted to rescue this chicken so much, to care for it and keep it safe. But I can’t.
I have a cat. An active, hunting kind of cat. My council doesn’t allow chickens. I don’t know anything about how to care for them.

It made me cry (and I’m not reeeeally one for melodramatics). There was just something so poignant about an abandoned chicken. it was so out of place, so unexpected in its sadness.
I didn’t pick it up. I refused to help.
“I’ll come back after training,” I told myself. If it’s still there, we’ll take it home.

You know what?
I forgot.
I completely forgot about the chicken as we headed home three hours later.
I went to sleep without a single thought of the chicken.

I didn’t remember it at all until I woke up in the middle of the night.
It’s a stormy night. The poor chicken might have been blown away. Attacked by possums. Eaten by the feral cats that roam around campus.

But I like to believe that a security guard making the rounds discovered the poor creature and called the RSPCA to come and get it.
Or one of the students with family out in the country took it with them, to live with the other farm chooks.

Have a happy ending, little chook.
Today, I carry a little unresolved sadness for you with me.

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