The Sparrow

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Feb 2, 2004
An oldy, but worth repeating.

The Sparrow

Once upon a time there was a sparrow, he was a fun luvin party animal and one summer he made friends with a flock of seagulls. They were really cool and played great pranks on the people on the beach, stole food, kicked sand in peoples' faces and lived totally for the moment.

The sparrow hung around with these guys all summer and had the best time of his life and when summer turned to autunm he was still there at the beach havin fun. As the days grew colder and shorter and fewer people went to the beach, the seagulls began to squabble amongst themselves and they werent as much fun. The sparrow began to tire of his friends and hated to be cold and wet and realised it was past time to fly north for the winter.

Early one morning he said goodbye to his friends and headed north. He flew all day and as late afternoon came he realised that the shorter days would make it impossible to reach his destination in one day. As it grew dark he began to look for a place to spend the night, but the air turned very cold and ice began to form on his wings. He flew on hoping to reach the mountains and find a warm place to rest, but the ice on his wings made it more and more difficult to fly, and with a farm yard in sight, he pushed on, thinking it must surely have a nice warm barn.

He was not far from the barn when his wings iced up completely and he fell to the ground, exhausted and unable to move a muscle. He lay on the ground shivering and desperate and just as he was about to give up all hope, a herd of cows came walking from the paddock to the dairy. One of the old dears stopped right over him and dropped a huge, wet smelly pile of dung. It covered him and he wished he were dead.

The poor sparrow lay there under that horrid mess and he had never been more miserable in his life. After a short while he realised that he was warming up, he was feeling better, he would survive, and so he began to sing.

The farm cat had drunk his fill of milk and heard the sparrow singing. A sparrow singing at night was too much for his curiosity and he went to investigate. He followed the singing to the pile of dung, found the sparrow and with one swift flick of his paw, scooped up the sparrow and ate him.

The moral of this story oh best beloved is... someone who drops s@#t on you is not necessarily your enemy. Someone who pulls you out of it is not necessarily your friend, and if you are warm and happy living in a pile of s@#t... keep your mouth shut!!!!

Originally posted by tdi-rick:
An oldy, but worth repeating.
fly north for the winter.

Took me a minute on this part! Then I scrolled down and saw that you are in Australia.

I cannot be the only one in the Northern hemisphere confused by this.
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