A Donkey Anecdote

This is a story of a dazed-eye donkey who chug his way leisurely on all his donkey affairs, until one day a fly whizzes and whispers: "The walls have ears".

All this time he knew all along that he is stubborn and stupid like the rest of his breed, and this fact he accepted plainly because he heard it firsthand from his donkey elders, perhaps to confront and at the same time to pacify the insult that all creatures associate with their kind.

Why the Lord Animal granted him measly intelligence he had stop questioning, not because food, drink and work occupy most of his time but because he finds the question too distracting. It did not really occur to him that he can philosophize. He recalled how he kicks the air and how his heart rebels every time he tries to examine his true worth, and how he would eventually appease himself by the stubborn acknowledgment that his emotion can be bridled at best by his own ignorance. And thus he eats, drinks and works hard and happily as he can, being comfortable as a mere level-headed beast of burden.

"The walls have ears?", just as he repeated these words, the fly flew away and was gone. The donkey looked around, his eyes surveying with alertness, his nose sniffing funnily and his pointed ears humming with vibrations.

"Nobody is there but someone is listening", this observation initially scares his wit and weakens his knees, but he soon realizes that this vigilance keeps his head up and clarifies many of his doubts. He almost cannot believe that a renewal of strength is happening in him all at once, and as light and sweeping the realization is bursting inside, he is able to trace its true source from fear.