The Owl and the Ant (and the cricket)

This post was written by Chuck McKay

Posted on November 1, 2008

Filed Under Strategy and Tactics

One day an ant stopped carrying food into the anthill, and paused to look around. The other ants kept scurrying around him intent in their tasks, but this ant, call him … Anthony… this ant found himself questioning why he and all of the other ants never stopped working.

He glanced at a couple of crickets playing leap cricket. “Crickets never seem to work at all,” he noticed. Then he wondered,“Why is it that we ants never take a break, while crickets play games all day long?”

Anthony pondered the state of his life as he picked up his load and continued toward the anthill, but he couldn’t put the thought out of his mind. The thought of those crickets who seemed to enjoy life so much more than any ant ever did.“Is this all there is,”� he wondered, “picking up food and carrying it to the ant hill?”

For three more days he absent-mindedly continued his place in the ant work detail, wondering why ants never take a day off.

“Why was I born an ant? And why don’t I feel like the other ants? Is there something wrong with me?”

At the end of the third day, he placed his load on the ground and stepped determinedly away from the ant formation. Anthony wasn’t going to work another lick until he got some answers. He would consult the wisest person in the woods - Madam Owl.

Anthony arose before dawn and marched determinedly into the woods. Though he had nearly half a mile to go, his two millimeter stride never hesitated, never wavered. He just kept putting three feet in front of the other three.

The sun was directly overhead when Anthony finally reached the clearing at the center of the woods.

Looking up, he saw Madam Owl on the uppermost branch of the tallest oak tree.

Anthony tried calling to her, but she couldn’t hear him.

He stood on his back legs and waved his arms and antennae, but the owl was focused on the horizon and didn’t notice Anthony at all.

“If the owl won’t come to the ant”� he muttered under his breath, and started climbing the tree.

Dinnertime came and went but Anthony didn’t waver in his quest. Being an ant, it didn’t occur to him that he could stop to take a break. An ant on a mission, he just kept climbing.

Finally, as the sun was dipping on the horizon, he reached the branch of Madam Owl, and called for her attention.

“Madam Owl,”� he said, in his most polite masculine ant voice. “Madam Owl, I’ve come to seek your wisdom. You’re said to be the most learned person in the woods. Please, advise me.”

The owl turned toward the ant, her eyes focusing on his tiny form. She paused long enough to take in the situation before asking, “How can I help you?”

“Like all of the ants, I work and work and never get any rest. And yet, I notice that not all creatures work as hard as ants do. I want to have some fun. I want to take the occasional afternoon off. But the other ants only focus on working“� Anthony said, trying not to sound whiney as he asked, “hat can I do?”

Madam Owl closed her eyes, and considered Anthony’s question. Neither of them made a sound as she pondered the possibilities. When her eyes opened she assumed the satisfied look of someone who has no doubt of her answer.

“Son,” she said, “the problem is that you’re an ant. If you were a Junebug, or a firefly, or a cricket, you’d be much happier. That way you’ll have all of the time you need to play. You might even take up the fiddle and fiddle away some of those afternoons you want to take off’. “You,”� she concluded, “need to become a cricket.”

Anthony looked stunned. “But, but,”� he stammered, “How do I do that, Madam Owl? I’m an ant. How in the world do I become a cricket?”

The owl looked quite cross when she said, Ant, I’ve given you the strategy. Surely you can figure out the tactics on your own.”

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The Wise Old Owl

A grasshopper decided to consult the hoary consultant of the animal kingdom, the owl, about a personal problem.

The problem concerned the fact that the grasshopper suffered each winter from severe pains due to the savage temperature. After a number of these painful winters, in which all of the grasshopper’s known remedies were of no avail, he presented his case to the venerable and wise owl.

The owl, after patiently listening to the grasshopper’s misery, prescribed a simple solution: ‘Simply turn yourself into a cricket, and hibernate during the winter.’

The grasshopper jumped joyously away, profusely thanking the owl for his wise advice. Later, however, after discovering that this important knowledge could not be transformed into action, the grasshopper returned to the owl and asked him how he could perform this metamorphosis.

The owl replied rather curtly, ‘Look, I gave you the principle, it’s up to you to work out the details!’