Descension

RJ finds a nestling on the ground out back by the bamboo he planted years ago.

When he brings it in to show me, i grimace, not recognizing what it is at first.

"He's not gonna survive, is he?" I ask.

RJ shakes his head.

I make a sad face.

On close examination, the birdie appears to have a deformity on his neck.

"Something is wrong," says RJ. "It's swollen."

It's more like severe goiter.

The little creature, eyes closed, continues to instinctively gasp, rhythmically extending its neck, hoping for a deposit of food. It's hard to watch.

RJ puts it down to rest under the bamboo in the raised potted area.

"Alley is gonna eat it!" I protest, worried.

"She's not gonna find it," RJ reassures me.

We walk away with heavy feet.

"Can't you see if you may find the nest and put it back?" I ask.

"Its mother probably notices it's not going to make it," muses RJ. "And kicks him out."

It comes as a shock to me. "Really?" I respond. A moment later, i conclude, "I guess that's what animals do, huh?"

Survival of the fittest, i get it. Why feed an ailing mouth when you can make the strong stronger instead? Wouldn't be efficient use of limited resources.

Still the notion chills me. Especially realizing humans are not immune to animal instincts.