"What a great country this is!" Dad burped
and sat back contentedly. "Just look at the peace and prosperity
we have!"
Junior glanced up momentarily from his meal and
then recommenced gorging himself.
"It wasn't always like this, you know," Dad continued,
irritation edging his voice. "You kids don't know how good you have
it. But I guess it's not your fault. You're too young to remember."
"Remember what?" asked Junior, food leaking out
the corners of his mouth.
"They tried to take our land. They tried to
exterminate us." Dad stroked his whiskers as he remembered the bad
old days.
"Who were 'they'?" Junior asked with a slight shudder.
Dad had his attention now.
"Why, the Evil Ones, of course. They treated
us like animals, just because we were different. And they might have
gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for NATO. Some people
didn't believe NATO was for real, but they saved us. We owe this
great life we lead to NATO."
"What became of these Evil Ones? Um, you don't
suppose they'll come back, do you?" Junior looked furtively around.
"No, no," Dad laughed easily. "NATO took care
of that."
"So, where are the Evil Ones?" Junior
wasn't convinced.
Dad laughed again. "Just look around you,"
he said. "Why, they're the very banquet that you feast upon today.
Say, that one over there has a nice, fat thumb. Why don't you nibble
on that?"
Junior scurried to take his father's advice.
"But how about NATO?" he squeaked. "I'd really like to thank them
for what they've done."
"Now that you mention it," said Dad, pensively twitching
his long, hairless tail, "I haven't heard a thing about them in ages.
Perhaps they live on only in the grateful memories of those they have helped.
But don't ever let anyone tell you that they weren't credible!"