Fables Are Fiction

I’m working on writing a longer fable about vulnerable sheep, greedy wolves, a trickster goat, and a greek chorus of cats. Meanwhile here is a short fable inspired by the last two weeks. And remember, fables are fiction.

Once upon a time there was a dog who lived among wolves. He protected his flock of sheep as best he could, but sooner or later wolves get greedy. After a long time of fighting by himself the dog bayed for help, but the only ones who heard him were the cats scrambling for table scraps on the café terraces, and one lonely goat. The goat bleated but her voice was lost among the cries of the sheep and the howls of the wolves. So the sheep were lost, and the cats twitched their tails and tsked tsked with moderate sincerity, and all the goat could do was drag the dog from the fray before the wolves finally reached his throat.

A lifetime later, or about three days, the goat met a fellow goat and told him her story. He listened so well she fell in love. But his life was already full of love so he didn’t notice that she’d added to it. Still she tried to follow him, cautiously and from a distance, and continued to make up stories in order to have something to share with him. It was never enough, but she cherished it anyway. You learn how to do that when you have no other choice.

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