The Lion and the Mouse
A lion limps, a vicious thorn in the pad of a foot. A mouse sees this, and seizing the upwardly social moment, rushes up to the lion and says, “O mighty lion.” The lion kills and eats the mouse. It is a cat and a mouse is a mouse.
Moral: Never expect to get the last word.
***
The Sun and the Wind
The sun and the wind see a woman in an ugly coat. The sun challenges the wind to a contest to see which can make the woman remove that eyesore of a coat. The wind, being a blustery fool, blows and blows to hurricane proportions. The ugly coat stays, wrapped tighter. The sun takes over and shines and shines, and through the buildup of greenhouse gases, burns the planet to a crisp.
Moral: Never buy off the rack.
***
The Fox and the Grapes
A fox, wandering as foxes do, spies succulent green grapes hanging temptingly from a branch above its head, maddeningly out of reach. The fox desires the grapes and sits and considers how to obtain them when, unexpectedly, the fox achieves nirvana and transcends infinity.
Moral: Desire exceeds all bounds.
***
A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
A clever wolf decides that the most efficient way to get more to eat is to hide himself amongst his prey. He covers himself with sheepskin to fool the stupid sheep. The wolf moves through the flock, pretending. Very little time has passed when the wolf learns to bleat when the others bleat. The wolf learns that, contrary to a previous opinion, grass is very good to eat, that he enjoys gambolling in the meadow. And before the wolf knows it, he no longer suffers from useless independent thought.
Moral: None can serve two masters — or, grass is good.
***
Belling the Cat
Seven mice huddle behind a barrel in the barn. It’s a frightened conference.
“What will we do? What will we do?” cry the two young ones.
“That wicked white cat must be stopped,” says the oldest mother.
“We could move into the barrel.”
“Live in the rafters.”
“Travel in packs.”
Good suggestions all, but none that guarantee safety from the cat’s sharp claws.
The alpha male stands on his haunches and announces, “I believe that we should . . .”
The oldest male, the one that rarely follows the point of the conversation, then squeaks loudly: “I am most upset about the state of our retirement fund!”
At which point the mice immediately fall to arguing the merits of stocks versus bonds, the incomprehensibility of derivative funds, and the invisibility of secret bank accounts. So intense is this debate that none of the seven note Mr. Underfoot, quiet as a cloud, swing out with his mighty paw. Seven with one blow.
Moral: Financial planning is for the birds.
Comments are closed.