Hawks vs. doves

I work on the fourth floor of a six-floor building on the bank of a corporate-park lake. The property is beautifully landscaped and forested. We're accustomed to geese, duck, deer, and fish sightings, so I'm always on guard for the next faunal encounter. As I looked out a window at the cubicle farm today, a hawk caught my eye.

He had a death grip on something, so I ran down the hall to my boss's office for a closer look. He had caught a dove, and it was still flopping around trying to free itself. The hawk put a choke hold on it, though, and a few seconds later it was motionless.

And then, three stories above the ground, the hawk started plucking the feathers off the dove, spitting them out to float to the ground like lazy snowflakes.

Dee, a coworker, came to see what had me pressed up against the window. He was visibly upset when he saw the hawk dismembering the dove.

Aww, that's not right! he protested. The hawk, oblivious to fourth-floor criticism, kept on plucking.

Now, Dee, did you have your usual chicken biscuit for breakfast this morning? I asked.

Yes, he answered.

Well, someone did to your chicken what the hawk is doing to that dove, I replied.

Don't say that! Dee squawked. But he realized it was true. And that it is a natural part of life.

I'm anxious to see what Dee brings for breakfast Monday morning.