A large black ant floats in the pool, dead—a spec in a chlorinated ocean. The horrific beauty has caught my attention. I saw it minutes and feet ago, but now it rocks back and forth in the current between my legs that dangle into the water from the edge. It haunts me.
I feel sorry for the poor thing. It moved! The lifeless limbs moved. I pull it from its watery abyss to give it a second chance at life, but it crawls back toward the pool. Back in the water it flails toward me once again. I cast a few gentle waves to move it away, but it still fights the currents.
I’d like to help it again, but I ask myself, “Does a creature that puts itself in danger seconds after rescue deserve another chance?” I don’t have it in my heart to say no, so I lift it from the water and place it on the cement to offer it one more chance to live as I walk away. Still, chances are the cats will get him anyway.