About Us

|-  -|
The Dog With the Bejeweled Faeces
(first draft)

It happened one time that a farmer, of late return'd from market, espied 'pon his front stoop a curious object. At first glance, he took it to be a common root. Then, after a solid peek at the mysterious cylinder, he let loose with a hue and cry not heard since the lord of the manor stopped letting his tenants sip from the spoiled wine.

Why, 'tis a treasure, his hale and hearty wife declared. And it was, with sides encrust'd with the finest jewels, adorned with gilded threads, and speckled with what looked to be 18K corn niblets. The farmer knelt, as if to pray, then slid a hand under the object. Surely God himself has bless'd me today with a gift from the heavens above, said the farmer. He leaned to kiss it, then all on a once recoiled and dropped the priceless log.

Fi! said the hearty landsman, this be nought but a turd, and a p'rticularly foul specimen of the sort! Indeed, as the farmer gazed 'pon the jewel bedeck'd tube, his faithful dogge Louis, a companion since the man's youth, squatted near his master's feet and produced another such dung, more bejeweled and foul-odored than the first.

No doubt but this is a most magickal pup, exclaimed the farmer's wife. I must bring news of such miracle to the elders, said he. And so, the farmer gathered up the precious waste and, clutching them to his breast, ran back to the village center. The good man spun his tale for the elders, who were not of a mind to believe it. And so it was that at dawn the next day, the leaders of the farmer's village and no less a personage than the lord himself gather'd round Louis as the pup birthed another dung that dazzl'd the eye and assault'd the nose.

Had my eyes not seen it, I would not believe it, but 'tis truly a miracle, said one of the elders, scooping the rancid precious to his brow. 'Tis a blessing from the Lord, said another, nuzzling one of the earlier dungs.

And so, as day turned to night and night to day, a fortnight and a fortnight of fortnights later, the farmer had grown wealthy on his dogge's vile and valuable tubes. The man of the land was happy, but his wife, a mean and spiteful woman, demanded more. Like the serpent did to Eve, she tempted the good man, crafting visions of great wealth stor'd inside his faithful mutt, easily within reach of a knife. Her tales reased the greed inside the good man, and convinced him to do as she bid.

At last, the day dawn when, overwhelmed by greed, the farmer grasped a long knife and filleted his pet. In the entrails, he found a handful of jewels, nothing more. Alas, said he, I have lost my oldest friend and will no more benefit from his evil-smelling, yet richly beneficial wastes.

With that cry, he lapsed into such a despair as had never been seen. He took to walking long hours in the woods, and was only moderately cheered when, in his wandr'ngs, he stumbled across the enormous pile of jewels and gold his dog had been eating all this time. So this is how he did it, said the farmer. I shall remember him in the same way he helped me, he said. At that, he swallowed an handful of jewels, collaps'd, and died.

The Moral

Man and man's best friend have very different dietary needs. Consult a barber or priest before attempting to craft valuable faeces.

Return to Aesop's Rough Drafts

© copyright 2000 The Van Gogh-Goghs