As I glanced out the bay window of my new house this afternoon I noticed the black cat that I've seen roaming the neighborhood saunter down the sidewalk. A few seconds later I saw a young man pick up a large rock and throw it with all his might. It knocked the kitty off his feet, hitting him squarely. He got up and ran around the house across the street. Then I watched the guy run up to the porch of the house and retrieve the rock. He ran to the driveway, got down on his knees and looked under the cars to see if the cat was still there, rock still in his hand.
He stood up after a few seconds and walked away. I ran out onto the porch unsure of what action I could take. Obviously, I'm not going to teach him anything about respect for living beings and kindness and compassion that has eluded him for his eighteen- twenty years on the planet. "Hey, jerk," doesn't seem to mean anything or to do any good.
I glared at him as he rounded the corner while he looked back over his shoulder.
I'm reminded that people who have been hurt, hurt. What a sad, frustrating deal. Surely seems unfair to me.
Love is the answer. It's always the answer. Sometimes it's hard to apply it to the situation at hand.