Big Fat Bully

We humans are such bullies. As my mom puts it to her cats, "I'm the boss mammal." And bossy we are. The other day I was driving down my street and watched in horror as a black Volvo crushed a little bird under its tires. Its partner (was it a mom, a baby, a boyfriend, a best friend...?) flew off, then hovered around its dearly departed, chirping and screeching and fluttering its wings. Just like that, a little life was snuffed out by a big human bully.

I was fuming about it all day. What makes us so special? Why should we have the power to decide which animals roam free and which end up on our plates, which trees get demolished and which get to provide shade for us at the beach, which flowers dot the landscape and which wind up in vases surrounded by dinner party guests? It's astounding the gall we humans have: the ways in which we play god everyday.

Then as I was driving to the gym later and witnessed a giant hawk or vulture swoop down and tear a piece of roadkill to pieces, carrying off a huge bloody chunk of flesh in its beak, I felt better knowing that at least one species was benefiting from all our bullying. Our angry tires, made his delectable dinner. Vultures feeding vultures... Maybe we're not so bad after all.

Nah, we're bullies.