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A smallish man walks into the forest a fornight ago, and returns with a bushel of soap.
Which is not odd in the least, considering the world's premier soap-maker lived in that forest, and considering that that was the man's express purpose in going into the forest, to get soap.
A rather medium-size woman (as we know one's not to joke and/or mention a woman being anything but absolutely perfect, which comes in handy quite a lot of the time, as quite a remarkable number of them are quite close to perfection, in their own right) wandered into the forest a week on, and returns with a small dog attached rather fiercely to her ankle. Growling.
She didn't, necessarily, go into the forest looking for a small dog to leap out of a bush, snarling softly, with a mysterious gleam in it's eye, and append itself to the bottom of her leg with the impressive tenacity small dogs tend to show when clinging to something with their teeth. And now the woman was showing the pained, impatient look of a woman with a small dog biting her ankle.
Which is understandable.
And not all that odd, if you consider that she walked past (almost deliberately, some might say) the world's only Small Belligerent Dog Bush.
Which is a lesson to us all. If you go into the forest seeking soap, you're all right. But if you go into the forest with an ill-thought out motive, you're bound to walk by the world's only instance of something particularly unpleasant and embarassing, and be stuck with walking around with a dog or something stuck to your ankle for, if not the rest of your days, quite a long time.
disclaimer:
Life in horribly unfair sometimes, and at other times it is horribly, horribly fair.
And then some days it gets it's hair together in a nice enough way, puts on a new shirt, pays a little attention to how it's carrying itself, puts it's shoulders back, and can look quite stunning, indeed. Prawn vindaloo, bon nuit.
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Yer Weekly Horoscopes. off to the highlands.