After I posted earlier, something came up that literally took away my blogging momentum. If you have been a regular reader, your guess is correct. 🙂
I have tried time and again to go about my business in the field when I cannot blog. There were times that inspiration came when I least expected it.
Here’s a short tale. It’s my first try at writing a fable. Hope I won’t mess it up. 🙂
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“Mommy, look at that big animal!”
Jenny, the hen, kept on scratching the dried soil in search for food, looking for small seeds from flowers and other grasses. She was used to constant comments from her chicks that mimicked her every action.
“That’s Fred,” she replied, glancing at the carabao that soaked its body in the pool of mud. “Keep your distance from him.”
“Why is he in the mud. That’s dirty.”
Suzie was the most inquisitive of her seven chicks and the most vocal. She would often wonder loudly why they were puny compared to other animals.
“He likes it that way. It’s too hot and he needs to cool himself up.”
“Why can’t he move to cleaner waters?”
“He can’t,” Jenny explained. “His master tied him there.”
“Our master does not tie us up. We can go wherever we want.”
“That’s correct,” Jenny agreed. “We can move freely but we should not go further away from the house.”
“You mean, Fred is tied up because he might go away?”
Jenny was beginning to run out of answers. Instead of continuing her scratching, she sat down, a signal for her chicks to come to her.
“His master takes care of him while Fred helps in the fields. If he’s not tied up, he might wander far away in search for food, like we do. That would be problem for his master. Other people might take Fred captive.”
“Why?” she asked, her siblings kept quiet, listening attentively to their mother’s explanation.
“People do that. Sometimes, they take something that does not belong to them.”
“That’s awful!” Suzie exclaimed. “I won’t do such a thing.”
Jenny thought that her chick was satisfied, ending another segment of curious queries.
“Why does Fred’s master not place him near clean waters?”
“His master learned what Fred likes. He likes the mud.”
“Insects like mosquitoes bite his skin. It hurts. The mud will cover his skin and protect it from insect bites.”
Suzie seemed to be thinking of her next question when Fred rose up from the mud, crossed the irrigation canal and wandered near them.
“Do you want something to eat?” Fred’s huge stature dwarfed them.
“Of course,” Suzie replied automatically.
“I’ll lie down and you can eat all the insects pestering me.”
Jenny smiled at the invitation, eagerly leading her chicks near Fred’s belly. They would have a feast.
“You are kind, Fred,” Suzie remarked, eating near his face.
“Yes, I am,” he said. “Just don’t make me angry. I have horns, you know.”