It was early autumn and all the birds in northern Iowa were getting themselves ready to fly south for the winter, except for Steve. Steve decided he was going to stay at home this year. Every year since his hatching he had flown south, but for what? The way he had it figured winter couldn't be that bad.

All the other birds warned Steve. They would say, "Steve we always fly south. Our parents flew south, their parents flew south and their parents." and Steve would reply, "It won't be that bad, you will see and next year you guys can stay too.".

https://i.imgsafe.org/cc67d37958.jpg
(Source PBS)

The first few weeks after the other birds left, it wasn't too bad. "See, I can deal with this." Steve would think to himself as he admired the beauty of the Iowa plains at sunset. Birds like that kinda shit too.

Then winter arrived with all it's harshness and bitterness. And it proceeded to get worse and worse as each day passed. The time had come that it seemed Steve had learned his lesson. He knew he should have went south with his family and friends.

As he sat in his nest he noticed a big red bard through the dense snow. He thought, "If I can just make it to that barn maybe I can survive the winter. It doesn't seem too far." and with that Steve took flight. It was hard for him. The wind was so strong and kept blowing him off track. The snow would blind him and a little over half way there Steve lost his strength and plummeted to the ground.

As he laid there freezing, Steve knew he was at death's door. All he could do is think of how foolish he was to stay behind. Then as if out of no where a cow passes by Steve and takes a huge shit on him. As if this didn't add insult to injury as he laid there dying a cow shits on him. However after a few seconds Steve realized something. "This shit is warming me up. If I can just get it off me I will be warm enough to make it the rest of the way to that barn." And with that Steve commenced to shaking the shit off him. He was squawking loudly as he slung the shit off himself.

By this time the snow had let up and the howling wind was gone and a Vulture flying high in the air happen to take notice of Steve trying to clean himself. The Vulture flew down and begin to help Steve clean the shit off. "I can't believe this you came to help me. I am so relieved to have your help." Steve told the Vulture with gratefulness in his chirp.

Just as soon as all the shit was cleaned from Steve, the Vulture ate him.

The moral to the story:

Just because someone shits on you doesn't make them your enemy and just because someone gets you out of some shit doesn't make them your friend.