Maybe pixie dust was the missing ingredient. But each night, little Simba lay on the front lawn of the Muriukis, gazing at the moon and the stars above him. He wondered what those things up there were. What happened so that they got stuck up there? But majorly he kept wishing that he would one day be as bright and wonderful to everybody and every dog as the little spots up in the sky at night.
Oh, how they twinkled, how they made him -a dog-smile. Even dogs would do anything for that feeling. What would he do? Join a circus and be the greatest sniffer? Rider? Maybe even a lion tamer? What would he have to do? It seemed that his choices were amongst those that would almost be impossible to him because of his small body and reserved taste for risk.
Oh, now how sulked and quietly sobbed,hitting his head against the ground. It had been like this for many months now and the Muriukis were wondering what was wrong with their puppy. But nobody, even the veterinary doctor, would tell where the puppy was sick. Maybe because it wasn’t physical… Pixie dust. That’s what he needed. Then he would have faith. And fly.
Pixie dust came in the form of a passing mutt, old and grey. He was called Monty and he was surprised to see the little Rottweiler in such a damp mood. It wasn’t good. So he approached the little puppy and greeted him. “Hey! You there!” Little Simba was scared stiff. Where would he go? Where was mummy and daddy? Where was Kevin? How come Mr. Muriuki had left the gate open today? However, he still managed to give a weak “Yes, Sir!” And before he thought of running away when Monty came too close, he found Monty seated next to him.
“Why do you gaze so forlorn at the stars?” Monty asked, “You are such a young soul…you should be happy, free, adventurous and wild. Leave all that sadness for me…because you know what kid? I wish I were a pup once again.”
“Really, Sir?”
“Oh, Come on, my dear don’t call me sir!” Monty corrected, “Call me Monty-and you’ll find it more appropriate one day”
“Ok, Monty” Simba corrected, now a little more courageous because of the established rapport. “Why do you need to be small again?”
“Oh, you see when I was young; I wanted to be a great dog…” “I also want to be a great dog…”Simba interjected fearlessly.” Aha! Then let’s say that I was just like you, with so many dreams, looking at the skies and wondering if I would be as great as the stars.”
“Even me! Oh, please tell me what you did to be a great dog! Oh! Please! Please!” Simba cried and wagged his tail hitting Monty repetitively on the sides. “Wow, where did that energy come from!”Monty asked in a deep voice, “I thought you were a little sad”
“Well, that’s because I didn’t know how to be great. And everything seemed too big for me. But now you’re here and you’re going to tell me… Simba’s eyes were bright under the moonlight and Monty remembered how it was when he was young.
“Well, first of all I’ll tell you that things are not really as they seem. What you think is small really is big and what you think is small really is great.”
“What do you mean?” Simba asked. “Well take me for example” Monty began, “I left my family in search for greatness. I became a street dog and a wanderer for a while. I joined the circus and became the greatest dog hoop jumper. However, I had no friends as I practiced every single hour when not asleep. I was more of a slave, an item of entertainment rather than a symbol of ability. In fact, people didn’t think I was great: they thought the act was. That affected me.”
“I grew up in my master’s home but as soon as the crowd had seen plenty of other such great acts, I was of no use anymore. I was thrown out to the streets. So my youth was gone, my value in the market was gone and I had no friends and family. I even didn’t have a girl! This even meant that I would not have family to call my own.”
Monty was now crying and he turned to face away from Simba. Simba was confused on what to do yet his heart reached out to Monty and he found himself saying “Don’t worry Monty. I will be your friend!” When these words reached Monty’s ears, it was like a revelation of how life should have been had he not strived for an illusion and fake appeal. To him Simba had become great.
“Well thank you dear!”
“Don’t call me dear; call me Simba!” Simba interjected with a dog’s smile.
“Okay Simba, thank you but I have to go.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
“You don’t have a home!” Simba told him, “Only a place to live…”When Monty heard that he knew that it was the truth.”Stay with us. My keepers are good people and will take you in. They will save you from the dog hunters and you will be happy…and I will be happy too.
“Sure? Oh dear I wouldn’t want to burden you!”
“No! Its no burden and besides, it’s the least I can do…You are a great dog Monty” Simba said and looked up to the sky,” See, I can even see you in the sky”
“And I can see you there too Simba. Where the biggest star shines”
And it was a great lesson Simba learnt that day. He got to know that when it comes to greatness, its surely the small things that do count. He made sure that he would neither forget that nor Monty. Monty died gracefully one week later after that meeting.
Even though he had followed the illusion of greatness for so long, in the end, had learnt that the meaning of greatness and had wonderfully passed it down to Simba when he really needed it.
So he wouldn’t need to chase the illusion too…
THE END.
Collonel .Many people follow greatness, but really, it’s the ants who find it…everytime.
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