Once upon a time in the old West there was a prospector who had discovered a very substantial gold mine. It was about a half mile from the base of a steep mountain on the top of which he had built a little home for his wife and himself.
Day after day the prospector worked his claim. And each night he filled his donkey’s two saddle bags with the ore that he had mined and sent the animal up the mountain ahead of him while he covered up the mine’s entrance so that no one would discover it.
One day he had found a particularly rich vein of gold and so the donkey’s saddle bags were fuller and heavier than usual. And when the donkey began his trek, he began to resent the fact that for all the labor he had to provide, all he received was his food and an occasional pat on the head.
“I am the most unfortunate of creatures,” he brayed as he began to head for the base of the mountain.
“My owner does not really care for me but merely uses me without ever giving me a day’s rest. Why was I born into such an unhappy lot?”
As it happened on his journey to the mountain, he encountered a bull who was wandering about, looking for stray cows with whom he might be amorous. After a particularly heavy meal, the bull was relieving himself when the donkey came upon him. He had deposited quite a few “patties” directly in front of the entrance up the slope in which the donkey would have to step so that he might begin his upward trek. The donkey, already in a bad mood from his heavy burden, thought this was the final insult – and so he yelled at the bull.
“Why, sir did you have to drop your leavings there? They are directly in the way of my access to the mountain which I must climb to return home. That is most rude and uncivilized of you, if I say so myself.”
Now the bull was a very amiable chap and so he took no umbrage at the donkey’s remarks, noticing how his back was buckling under the heavy load he bore. In fact he felt sorry for this poor creature, and being the sort who liked to help out where he could, he shared a secret with the donkey. He was a magical bull – or more correctly – his “patties” had a magical quality to them.
So the bull turned to the donkey and said, “My good fellow, you are in great good luck. I see the burden that you bear and I can help you so that you do not have to endure the hard trek up the mountain. My “patties” allow any creature that steps in them to defy gravity and to be able to float to any destination of their choosing without expending any effort at all.”
Well, the donkey who was not very long on intelligence welcomed this announcement with a great deal of gusto. He thought to himself, “Just imagine not having to trek the two miles up the steep mountain. That sounds good to me.” And since he had to go through the “patty patch” anyway, he thought he would jump into it with all four hooves – which he did.
“Now that I have your magical residue on my feet,” he asked the bull, “what do I do?”
The bull said, “Just think about going home and you will go there.”
So the donkey thought about going home and no sooner had the thought entered his mind, he began floating off the ground, rising higher and higher. He was elated that at least this day, his journey would be an easy one and he brayed his thanks to the bull who was getting smaller by the second.
Well all this braying caught the attention of several Paiutes who were out hoping to bag an elk with their carbines. You can imagine their surprise at seeing a flying donkey and were quite sure that this was a sign that the Great Spirit was angry with them. So in fear, they took aim at the donkey and shot him.
With the pain from his wounds overwhelming him, the donkey took his mind off his destination and addressed himself to thinking about his torment, which caused him to fall even more rapidly than he had risen until he encountered the ground with a thud and was killed.
Moral: If you rise to the top on B*ll Sh*t you’re going to get shot down. (Or so one can hope).