Take her out of the matted side of the stream was a job that took hours.
For a few short breaks, my partner and I talked and stroked him. She was dying.
We feel her beauty first, then her goodness. A great goodness. She was pure goodness.
Then we continue with the battle against the tangle, crossing her, bloody, the creek, etc.
At one point, I remember some people who could help me, but I instantly also remembered that these are the same people that would go through all the trouble we were having, but ... to hunt her, so I rejected the idea.
When we reach the car, and while my partner had his head in her hands, his eyes turned dull, something leave ... and she died.
Later, a fact appeared in my mind that I had not previously seen at this depth:
People who are insensitive to the goodness of that angel, ARE INSENSITIVE TO ALL GOODNESS... not only to the goodness of the fawn.
They are exempt from the goodness, both internally and externally. They live their lives ignorants of beauty, attached to pleasure and immediate survival.
What to do with the insensitive to the goodness?
The dogs attacked the corzuela within the limits of their nature ... but humans can not say that.
How is it being apart of goodness?
