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The Fable of the Two Thrushes
by Vicky S

Aesop visits Ambridge in this clever allegory, from the Fantasy Archers topic of .

Photo: US Fish and Wildlife Service/Dave Menke

A pair of elderly thrushes, though without issue themselves, had built a magnificent nest, the envy of the woods, on the site of a former crows' colony.

One day, to their surprise, they found that they were hosts to an egg.

They took responsibility for it and due course the egg hatched. The thrushes cared for the fledgling as though it was their own. They nurtured and loved it to such a degree that the fledgling, realising it was on to a good thing, stayed in the nest for longer than is normal, accepting largesse and huge caterpillars from the thrushes, who were so besotted that they failed to realise that the creature was not, as they believed a cuckoo, but in fact a crow, by happenstance related to the colony they had gentrified.

After some time the crow disappeared, and the thrushes told everyone that it had flown south for the winter as is a cuckoo's wont. They felt sad, but comforted themselves with the thought that they had made a difference to another's life, and had shared their good fortune with one less blessed.

To their great joy several other eggs were left for their ministration.

The thrushes worked hard at raising their surrogate family. To their relief these chicks turned out to be lesser spotted tits, and they found them a great deal easier and less demanding to care for than the crow.

An embittered old screech owl, who by virtue of her secure nest in the church tower felt qualified to pronounce on the moral tone of the entire wood, felt obliged to point out that in her opinion raising someone else's chicks for a few weeks was not a true parenting experience.

"You are not putting your own eggs in the basket" she pointed out sharply, " You may think that you have cracked it, but ackshelly a bird from your own egg is worth two in the nest."

The thrushes ignored her comments, and forbore to mention that the owl's own owlet had been laid in mysterious circumstances, and was being co-parented by a turkey.

Then one day an ungainly egg appeared in the thrushes' nest. When it hatched, the thrushes were shocked to learn that it was a feral pigeon, a breed about which they had heard and read but had not ever encountered. But they persevered.

They tried to feed the pigeon nutritious and wholesome food, but it demanded chips and pizza, which it pecked from the box with great enthusiasm. The pigeon had never lived in a nest before and the thrushes found it hard to cope with its dirty habits. They felt sure it was harbouring multitudinous diseases in its feathers and tried to encourage preening and feather care, but the pigeon called them old fashioned, and insisted on being allowed to live how it wanted.

The pigeon made itself known around the wood.

"Ooohnooo, oooohnooo" called the wood pigeon when she saw it fly close to her nest.

The pheasants flicked their tail feathers in distain as the pigeon passed. "Commonasmuck, commonasmuck" they squawked.

But the thrushes ignored them all.

Then one day the crow returned from foreign parts. When he found that his place in the nest had been usurped he flew into a fury and threatened to attack the pigeon, who though smaller, refused to be intimidated.

The thrushes tried to make peace between them, but not being doves were unable to reconcile the two.

The crow and the pigeon resolved to meet and sort out their differences by mortal combat. The thrushes looked on in horror as the two met one morning in a field.

Words were exchanged, feathers fluffed, wings flapped, beaks opened wide, but just at the moment of engagement a pair of hawks stooped from the sky and ripped the pair of them apart.

Wiping blood and feathers from her beak, the female hawk was heard to remark, without any irony whatsoever:

"Birds of a feather should flock together dontcha know. That was fun, but we'd better get back Nigel, or that ghastly old hen Hayley will be clucking on again about getting back to her nest before dark."

Moral: Scrambled up eggs cannot be unscrambled no matter how bleu your cordon.

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