Theft

It was a hard day.
In a hurry, a colleague stashed some personal property out of sight and went on break.
His things were gone when he returned.
Anger. Frustration. Sadness.

You can't trust anyone.
Why didn't he take the time to lock his things up?
Why would someone do this to him?

We work where there are many addicted, mentally ill and very poor people. Protocol is that we keep personal items locked away, but still, it all seems unfair. Everyone works so hard to be generous and compassionate and then this - theft. 

When I got home our white chicken, Jackie, was out in the street pecking around while her sister hen, a bossy Plymouth named April was ravaging the streetside garden. The kohlrabi was stripped of leaves, one of the broccoli plants was down and the vines of the acorn plant were bent and chewed.
Anger. Frustration. Sadness.

I give them the whole yard to run in and still they want what is mine.
I should have put netting up higher so there was no chance that a hen could get in.
The garden was looking so lush and now it seems haggard.

It takes work to allow the hens to have a quality life where they can safely roam around while still maintaining areas where vegetables can grow unharmed. I know I have to keep the gardens fenced. I love to garden but I enjoy my chickens too, and now this - theft.

I am convinced that some things happen simply as reminders of why vigilance is necessary in the first place, lest we get lazy and forget we are here to help the vulnerable and innocent because they sometimes don't make good decisions on their own.