The Ass and the Lapdog

A hardworking donkey, laboring in the fields every day carrying heavy loads and receiving only plain hay in return, watched with growing resentment as his master's small lapdog did nothing all day but sit on laps, receive treats and affectionate pats, and sleep comfortably by the fire each night.

"That dog does far less than I do," the donkey grumbled, "and yet receives so much more love. I wonder if it's simply his playful manner that wins such treatment." Determined to try the same approach, the donkey burst into the house one evening, bucked around clumsily in an attempt to seem playful, and finally tried to climb affectionately into his master's lap, exactly as he'd seen the dog do.

His enormous weight crushed the furniture and terrified everyone in the room, and the master, alarmed and furious rather than charmed, called for servants to drive the panicked donkey back out to the barn with sticks. The donkey, bruised and humiliated, understood too late that behavior charming in one creature can be disastrous in another — what wins affection depends entirely on knowing your own true nature, not simply imitating someone else's.