IS THERE A LIMIT TO THE SIZE OF THE CREATURES WE CARE ABOUT?
I WAS visiting the home of a young friend recently when she came to me clutching a small sparrow that had been caught by her cat. She asked whether it was worth taking to the vet for treatment, but the little creature was clearly dead and I suggested a dignified burial.
I was touched by her concern. Most of us support efforts to save rhinos or whales or cheetahs or elephants, but it’s unusual to find someone saddened by the death of a sparrow.
Way back, when money was real, the smallest coin we knew was a farthing – one-quarter of a penny. It was decorated with the image of two sparrows on a twig. This was a reference to a biblical quotation that said something like: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? Yet not one of them dies without God knowing about it.”
I’ve known friends and family go into serious mourning over the death of a dog or cat, but it’s unusual to care deeply about a sparrow.
I wonder whether this is a size thing. Is there a lower limit to the size of the creatures we care about? After all, we swat flies without a second thought, and happily spray death on cockroaches and ants. I feel no regret about stomping on the hairy caterpillars that chomp my flowers. And yet, all of them are simply trying to make a living like the rest of us, looking for food and a safe place to raise their young, avoiding predators, keeping warm at night and cool in the daytime.
It seems rather arrogant of we humans to decide which creatures should live and which should die.
Some of us are afraid of snakes and kill them on sight. Others among us go out at night armed with torches to protect leopard toads crossing the road. It’s a violent world out there. The jackal probably feels no regret about killing a dassie and the horse feels no sadness for flicking a horse-fly to death with a casual swish of its tail. The terrier kills a rat and the cat kills a sparrow.
Have you ever stopped to think how many deaths you cause with hardly a second thought in the course of a single day?
You step on an ant, swat a fly, spray insecticide under the sink… It’s a matter of dog eat dog out there and I guess the secret of survival is to back the biggest dog you can find.
Last Laugh
A businessman was surprised to see one of his colleagues in the auditorium at a ballet.
During interval he approached the man and said: “I didn’t think you were a ballet fan. I’ve always considered you to be more of a tough macho type of guy.”
“Oh, I enjoy an occasional ballet,” he replied. “Where else can you see a whole lot of women together without any of them saying a single word?”