Yesterday, driving to work, I saw a pigeon with a broken wing. It was in the right-most lane of Lincoln Blvd. It fluttered pathetically, trying to get out of the road. Its wing wouldn't fold, so it wouldn't try to walk. Instead, it just tried over and over to fly.
I could have stopped and helped. But I drove by, telling myself it was in the middle of traffic, and after all, just a pigeon.
Still, I feel like a bad person. I should have been the kind of person who helps injured animals, not the kind that just drives by, feeling badly.