Pity not thy noble lemming, for he has at least his freedom – freedom to fly to his death with the greatest of ease, in the company of those of like mind, freedom to Be. Who. He. Is.
Far from the common toils and endless intolerable woes of mousehood – ye nagging wife, ye snivelling brats, ye preying cats, ye biting fleas, ye chaotic and terrifying human overlords, ye rodent fate altogether – ye noble lemming doth live alone in magnificent wilderness solitude, eating pure sattvic food, and with a heart free of the endless insufferable pollutions of any company at all in this dreadful Kali Yug, and he does attain, as a matter course, on any given day, the Darshan of the Lord. And when the call comes to enact the Great Sacrifice of Lemminghood, so that the next generation of lemmings can so thrive in their turn, he does not fear to perform the Dharma that is his.
No, pity not thy noble lemming, for his is the better part entire.
Avatar Meher Baba ki Jai!