Raven and Crow

Watch out below!” shrieked the interloping crow. Ronald scooted back, but it landed on his toe. Pardon me, said the whippersnapper extraordinaire, But you have to admit there is something weird in the air. Ronald was miffed, but older, experienced and wiser too, So he merely dusted off his oversized foot that was blue. What kind of a crow are you? The youngster asked to his face. Teen ravens were never this bold; it would be a disgrace. I am not a crow, the raven said, puffed up and irritated now. Below he heard the bellow of a pregnant-in-labor dairy cow. The farmer headed toward the barn, his due as it was his land. Raven tried to ignore the youngster, but it was dancing on his hand “Excuse you!” Raven said, and gave the crow a disgusted glance. The crow was full of enthusiasm, doing a watusi on this branch. There are other trees, Ronald pointed out as brazenly as he dare. “Speaking of the weather, there are storms in the east, over there.” “Speaking of the weather!” Ronald said. “WHO was doing THAT?” They were now being stalked by SheShe, the world’s best climbing cat. She almost got the crow, but unfortunately, he finally flew away. So Ronald sat irritated, in a bad mood, the rest of the boring day.