There on the grass between the street and sidewalk was a little baby animal: possibly a chinchilla, possibly a baby rat, shivering to death and obviously either injured or in total hypothermic shock.
My heart bled for this poor little guy. Freezing to death is one of the worst ways that I can conceptualize dying, and so I decided to help the little critter out. Poor thing was so "out of it" I was able to pick him up in my gloved hands and shoved him in some bar rags to bring him either to a shelter or home with me.
Finding a shelter proved to be difficult: in a city of 20 million people, Lost Angeles only has 4 animal shelters within its city limits and none are close to my house or my event's location.
So I brought lil Ratatoille home with me to thaw out by my bathroom heater. I let him get warm but upon further examination of him did I notice that he could hardly move his front leg(s?) and grimaced in pain when he did so. I think the poor thing has at least one broken leg.
Despite it being 1:30 in the morning, I packed the little thing in my cloth grocery bag wrapped up in those bar towels. I raced him to the west side of L.A. to be admitted to the animal shelter for examination. I was terribly saddened to learned that no medical staff was on duty until 8 a.m. so I had to leave him there for the night. I asked if I could leave the towels for him explaining that I was also worried that he may have hypothermia, and then that was it. I guess his life is in God's hands at this point. I'm almost sad that I didn't keep him over night at my house so that he wouldn't have been alone in a cage with dogs howling all night in his ears. Either way, my part in his life may have come to an end.
On the way home, I was lightly playing my iPod through my car speakers and the 90s song by Savage Garden "I want to live like animals" started playing. I found it ironic and befitting that that song came on at that exact moment. I realized life really does happen for a reason. Every step we take and every action has an effect on everything and everyone.
My co-workers laughed at me and thought I was stupid taking in what they assumed to be a rat. I justified my actions by admitting that I had once rescued an injured pigeon and wrote a short story about the experience and that it had made me a better person.
"That's probably why you are still single Koelen," one of them said. "It can be traced back to that pigeon."
This comment got me thinking: maybe I am alone because I am too kind hearted. Maybe my empathy hurts me in the long wrong and makes me vulnerable to those that only wish to hurt me. Maybe my love for animals is a void that I'm filling in my life as a result of not having anyone to love.
I was always raised to support the underdog: to help those who cannot help themselves and to be there for those in need. When I saw this little mammal suffering, I imagined what it would be like if I were he: freezing to death, traumatized, and feeling completely alone in the world.
This little chinchilla or rat or possom baby let me scoop him up and entrusted me with his life: probably because he realized he was so close to death that nothing could be worse than what he was already going through.
Maybe I don't mind having such a fierce connection with animals. They are certainly no match for the company of people, but animals respect a system that humans no longer find relevant. They respect life and the connections between them. They don't know greed or hate. They know only the bond that ties them together with the rest of nature.
I'll forever be an animal lover. Maybe because I'm not so far off from being a wild animal myself.
