Over the course of my life, I’ve witnessed the deaths of 5 different animals.
Only one of these times was the death of the animal at my hands (regrettably), but that story is for another day.
The remaining 4 animals whose deaths I personally witnessed were entirely coincidental.
Today was the day I watched a 5th animal take its final breath.
Cloudy skies, blowy winds (“blowy” is a real word—did you know that?), the smell of cigarettes and stale coffee flooded the platform as I waited for my train, which was particularly delayed this day.
A grey, elderly looking pigeon saunters by my feet at eerily close proximity. It pauses for a moment, almost contemplatively. “Fu** off outside,” I mumble to the trash bird as I shake my leg in its direction. Like an elderly woman in a nursing home just told by her son that he longer wishes to visit her, the bird jumped back, shocked.
Unfortunately, the bird only had a few inches of runway before the platform, so it fell to the tracks.
I wish I could say this was the end of the story, but we’re hardly close.
The bird survived the initial fall with ease, flapping on its way to the ground to slow its descent significantly.
Unfortunately, the bird was so shocked at the fall that, after landing, it was still trying to get a grip on its suddenly different surroundings.
At this point, flapping like crazy and uncertain of its exact location, the bird jumped directly into the third rail, which, for those of you don’t know, is charged by 1.5kV of electricity meant to power industrial-sized locomotive engines.
A pigeon touching the third rail is equivalent to surgically putting a lit stick of dynamite in your heart. What happens when you put a stick of dynamite in your heart? You die.
This is exactly what happened to poor old Tweety (I named him after the fact).
Though not visible to a third-person spectator such as myself, Tweety’s heart exploded inside his body at first contact with the third-rail. Instantly, he fell to the floor, lifeless.
What did I learn from this experience? I learned to appreciate the fragility of life and the immense power of chance. Had my train been on time, I would have waltzed on board and never had the pleasure of meeting poor Tweety. Chance gave me the opportunity to meet a curious old bird probably just looking to make friends. My own anger led to Tweety’s untimely death. My frustration with nature inadvertently killed something beautiful.
I hope to see Tweety again in my dreams, alive and well. I want to watch him fly high and straight as an arrow.
I also hope to see my train arrive on time tomorrow.
Until next time,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder
