Once upon a time, there was a wee birdie perched upon the branch of a tree. The sun was shining and the wee birdie was happy, so it sang. It was so happy that it sang all day long, for days at a time. Indeed, it was so happy that it failed to notice that the seasons were changing. All of a sudden, winter came upon the wee birdie.
With the wintry blasts, the wee birdie's wings were suddenly frozen. And, inevitably, it fell off its perch and tumbled to the cold, hard ground. Frankly, its prospects of survival were not good: unable to move, the wee birdie lay upon the cold hard ground and wondered what would become of it.
But just then, a dirty great coo came by. And, as luck would have it, the coo delivered itself of a cowpat that landed on the wee birdie. To the amazement of the wee birdie, the warmth of the cowpat de-frosted its wings and it recovered its joie de vivre. The wee birdie, in sheer pleasure at being delivered from its erstwhile fate, immediately started to sing again.
A passing moggie, hearing the wee birdie's song, immediately scooped it out of the cowpat and ate it.
There are three morals to this tale:
1. Not everyone who drops shit on you is an enemy.
2. Not everyone who gets you out of the shit is a friend.
3. If you're warm and happy in the shit, keep your mouth shut.
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