I found an injured squirrel on my way back from work today. Its leg was broken, and it dragged itself across the sidewalk to avoid me. I couldn’t bring myself to leave it, so I called my brother at work so that he could find numbers for various animal rescue facilities. After many frantic calls, including one 911 call, and finally getting ahold of the Fish and Wildlife Services — just as I was arranging a pick-up — the squirrel died in front of me. Poor thing, it must have gotten hit by a car. I wish I could have done something, instead of watching it die at my feet as people went obliviously by and listening to recorded messages about how useless all the animals services are. They eventually suggested I let Nature take its course… I know there’s no animal emergency room, and I doubt anyone could have done anything to save it, but not trying would have left such a wound on my conscience. And still I felt so utterly helpless — not to stop Nature, but to make the squirrel’s death something useful and meaningful instead of the byproduct of a busy street. Perhaps if it had died curled around the tree where I found it, it might have decomposed into rich nutrient soil… now it will just be a corpse for someone to grimace at and throw in the garbage. Crap.