There was once a Russian hunter who during his lonely travels through winter's forests and tundra came across a pitiful sight. A tiny bird lay frozen and close to death.
The metaphysical peasant stooped to pick the tiny creature up and gently warmed it in his hands until life was restored. He then placed his little charge in a nearby heap of still steaming elk s *** to keep it warm and then carried on his way with a much lighter heart.
The bird, overjoyed at its salvation gave forth with song whereupon a famished timber wolf heard it, discovered the bird and scooping it up, ate it.
The moral of the story is. The person who drops you in the s *** isn't necessarily your enemy. The person who gets you out of the s *** is not necessarily your friend. And if you do find yourself in the poo for goodness sake don't make a song and dance about it.

So, just be grateful that you're just still kicking no matters , hey Miguel...? Now what made you come about with this whole analogy?

:rolleyes:

As usual, Lilac, it was something someone said that reminded me of this odd little tale so I jotted it down for others to share before I moved on and forgot it. I love little stories like that and thought it might give others the inspiration to post similar.

Good one Miguel, nice of you to share it with us.:PDT11

Thank you, Lu. Nice of you to say so. I love these little kind of amusing stories from which one can learn. Canada. Lovely place. I recall reading that Halifax in Nova Scotia is closer to Halifax in England that it is to some parts of Canada. Not a lot of people know that :celb (6):