A big black and ferocious dog was about to devour a small squirrel. The end was near for the poor squirrel.
Who would stand up against that dog? The squirrel's mother/friend/relative? Wouldn't the one trying to help be also devoured by the black dog?
What chance does the small squiggly squirrel have against the might of the ferocious black dog?
But the small one was not about to yield to the badness of the dog. He was not about to squirm on the tree in safety while looking at his friend/relative/baby being chewed up as dinner by the black dog.
The small one was not wrapped in apathy, fear and total self-pity like some cry babies who whine and whine and whine but do nothing to protect their rights from being eroded. The small one was going to stand up and be counted. The small one was going to use whatever it has to fight. It was not going to sit idle looking at the dog devouring one of its own.
The small one was going to fight.
With one small leap the small one jumped. It landed on the dog's head and chewed its ear.
The big black dog was stunned. It never thought the small squiggly one would dare attack. It overestimated its might and power. And it underestimated the resolve of the small one.
The dog was helpless to do anything. The small one had attacked the dog at its most vulnerable area. The dog had no choice but to yield.
And watch the two small ones escape to safety.
The dog was humbled.
What is the moral of the story, Ladies and Gentlemen?