One has 5,714 strikeouts, 7 no-hitters, 12 one-hitters in 27 seasons pitched and a commemorative plaque. The other was simply pitched on a roadside alone and tied to a tree, injured, and dying.
We don’t normally do external news items (plenty enough in-house content to keep busy…), but this story just stood out for a number of reasons. Disposability, disengagement, abandonment, indifference, and an unconscionable abdication of any and all responsibility versus the sheer will of one sentient being to survive. Good samaritans Barbara Crisp and Brian Barnes did the only things they could: call for help—to anyone—give what small comfort was available, and wait.
Wait for a dial tone then another “Sorry, can’t help ‘ya,” from one animal protection organization after the other. Wait for law enforcement to drop by and leave. Wait through the overnight thunderstorm and for the veterinarian the next day. Wait for the flash of blood in the long needle’s hub, the cessation of breath, and the last delicate flutter of a peaceful and finally pain-free heart.
Yesterday was The Great American Meatout and every Monday is Meatout Monday. What are you waiting for?
Post a Comment