While flying over the fields and meadows one morning,
Darrell’s keen nose detected a gorgeous pile of cow poop. This was his lucky
day! The poop was perfectly aged for balling—not too wet and mushy, nor too dry
and crumbly. He flew down and dove in. He rolled himself a beautiful ball of
poop and then commenced to trundle it home. He knew that he had a lengthy trip,
with many obstacles to negotiate, before he could bury it and feast contentedly
for the next several months, but he was up for the effort. His prize was worth
the struggle.
Darrell industrially planted his two front legs on the
ground, lowered his head, raised his back four legs against the turd ball, and
began to push. Like many of his hard-working dung beetle cohorts, Darrell had
the strength and determination to push a ball nearly three times his size and
ten times his weight. Grunting, he got the ball rolling homeward. Darrell knew
that many barriers might try to stymie him: tree roots, fallen branches, ruts,
and clumps of weeds. Since he was pushing backwards, he was unable to see them
coming, so it was a case of whether or not fortune continued to smile upon him.
Would his luck hold out?
A small dung beetle with a big ball of shit is at the mercy
of unseen terrain. If he got stuck, Herculean effort may be required to keep
going. Would he prevail? Would he be thwarted? He still remembered the time he
tried to cross a fairway on the golf course and dropped his dung ball into a
deep divot. He was almost home at the time, but had to give up and return to
the poop pile and fashion a second dung ball, which he finally succeeded in
rolling home. Like a kid trying to make an outsized snowman, Darrell forged
bravely on.
Soon he bumped up against a small twig and his ball wouldn’t
budge. Unable to see what the impediment was, Darrell dropped to the ground and
circumnavigated his treasured globe. Spotting the twig wedged under the ball,
he yanked it out, resumed his Atlas position at the front, and rolled on.
Some would regard Darrell as overly stupid, to take on such a
task. If a bird or chipmunk spotted him, he’d probably get laughed at, tackling
such an outlandish ambition—especially for such a disgusting object. But
tenacious and resolute, Darrell knows that he can succeed. He’s done it before.
He’s on a roll!
Unexpectedly, Doug the Dung Beetle suddenly flies down, lands
next to Darrell and asks if he needs help. “Looks like you’ve got a mighty big
ball there, brother. I could lend a foot.” Darrell is suspicious. He knows that
Doug is a sneaky dude, and doesn’t trust him any farther than he could throw
his turd ball. Trying to discourage the intruder, he says, “Thanks, but I’m
doing OK. I’m sure I can manage.” He pushes on.
More on Darrell’s trials next time…
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