THE FOX AND THE OWL
by Norman
The wiley old fox emerged from his lair on a Welsh hillside and proudly surveyed his hunting ground, before going in search of food. His usual enthusiasm was lacking however, for this morning his palate was a little bit jaded. He was getting tired of his usual fare: vole, mouse, rat, the occasional rabbit and, if he was lucky, some birds' eggs. All along the lower slopes, flocks of sheep were grazing on the fresh Spring grass. Far below, on the valley floor, he could see several farmsteads, each with a fenced-off hen run. 'It would be lovely . . . ' he thought 'to have chicken for a change.' But they were all well protected behind chicken-wire fences. Then he noticed it was the start of the lambing season and lots of little lambs could be seen taking their first tottering steps. 'Mmm, a tender young lamb would be a lovely treat,' he mused, licking his lips. Then he reflected on the past.
He'd had a peaceful life, so far, in this valley. Well, ever since his young days when he'd lost his parents to the pack of vicious, baying hounds that the mounted men in red coats had set upon his family. For nights afterwards he'd awoken from a nightmare which recalled the chilling blare of horns, the thundering of hooves and the snarling of frustrated hounds, as he cowered for safety in a rabbit warren. He'd been but a cub then and had, out of necessity, quickly learned to survive on his own. The smallest of animals was all he'd been able to catch, the prey gradually increasing in size as he grew bigger and stronger. However, he had sensed that the chickens and lambs that his parents had brought home for dinner was the cause of the men's anger, for they coveted them for themselves. Consequently, he had voluntarily restricted his diet to smaller animals - and had been left in peace.
The fox made his way down the valley and through a hedgerow, to find himself close by a small white lamb, it's mother quietly grazing a little way off. The lamb was very tempting for the hungry fox and he was about to succumb when , from above, a voice rang out.
"Look before you leap!"
The startled fox looked up to behold an owl, all puffed up, perched on a branch of a tree and fixing him with an unblinking eye.
"Are you the wise old owl I've heard about?" the fox ventured. "I thought you were only a myth!"
"I am indeed, Mr. Fox, but I assure you I am very real. Now I ask you, is it worth losing your security just to satisfy your appetite?" If you give in to temptation, the men in red coats will surely hunt you down and their pack of fierce dogs will tear you to pieces."
"Oh, I know," the fox replied, wearily, "but I'm getting so tired of my monotonous diet," he moaned. "If you are so wise, give me some advice."
"You must practice self control; it's all in the mind. Think positively and you can control your desires,. Learn to appreciate, enjoy and even love your diet of small vermin. I do, and besides, they are very nutritious. Haven't they enabled you to grow into a fine healthy fox?"
Just then a slurred voice bellowed out, "Now I've seen everything! An owl and a fox talking to each other."
The owl and the fox were stunned into silence as a vagabond, slowly discarding a newspaper he'd used as a blanket, emerged from the shelter of the hedgerow. He dropped an empty bottle as he staggered to his feet. The tramp's befuddled brain slowly pondered the exchanges he'd overheard, then he reacted with gusto, "No! Don't listen to that silly old fowl. Men are greedy and it's they who have deprived you and your kind of lamb in the first place. Help yourself to a lamb if you like."
"But men are so clever, they'll find out I'm to blame and kill me."
"Men are not only greedy, they're cowardly, but they're not so clever," the tramp continued. "Sure, they can make fancy gadgets, but they can be so stupid. They have made sharp weapons and noisy ones that can kill and maim from a distance. As if that was not cowardly enough they have now got bigger and better weapons to use, without putting themselves in danger. But now, I've just read in that newspaper that they've over-reached themselves. Far away, over the sea, in another land, men have tampered with things they can't control and have brought about a disaster. The land, water and even the air has been poisoned. The men who wrote the newspaper say the poison has been carried on the wind and the rain has washed it down onto these hills. They say the sheep will be poisonous to eat after eating poisoned grass. But who can believe them, for they tell so many lies? Yes, men deceive each other! The farmers are not allowed to sell their sheep and have stopped eating them, themselves, so won't mind if you take some."
"Don't listen to that subversive talk, my four-footed friend!" the owl warned, "or, believe me, it will all end in tears. Look how unsteady he is. He's been poisoned himself by drinking firewater from a bottle. His advice is unreliable. I have seen all this before, from up here on my lofty perch."
The tramp shook his head and ambled off, muttering," What do they know of the folly of men? They're only animals. It takes one to know one."
"Well my friend, are you going to take my sage advice and leave that defenceless little lamb alone?" the owl asked the fox.
"I certainly will," came the solemn reply.
"Good! But count yourself lucky you have my wordly wisdom to call upon, to keep you out of trouble," the owl lectured, condescendingly, but thought, 'After all, you are only a stupid old fox.'
The fox's thoughts were somewhat different.
'You pompous old bundle of feathers, you're not as wise as you think. I'm not going to take the lamb solely on your advice. Just like the men, I don't want to be poisoned either.'
The moral of this story is:
When in doubt, listen to advice - and consider it carefully. Keep your own counsel - not to antagonise. Then do what makes sense to you. Whatever the outcome, you'll at least have taken responsibility for your own fate.
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