As a volunteer and intern at various animal rescues, rehabilitation centers, and sanctuaries for the past six years, I have struggled with a certain degree of misanthropy. How can you not? When you spend your time at these places, you invariably see the results of humanity at its worst: pit bulls with jagged scars on their faces; pigeons who have developed neurological disorders from swallowing rat poison; frightened newborn calves, their umbilical cords still attached, being sold on the auction block to a veal producer.
It’s hard, really hard, to not want to give up on humanity entirely when you see these things. But every once in a while, an act of kindness towards an animal can reinstate your faith in your own species. One such moment happened to me a week and a half ago while volunteering at the Wild Bird Fund (WBF) in New York City.
Human kindness.