A Sad Sort of Fairy Tale
Once upton a time, a beaver swam to an island in Maine, where he was the onliest beaver, but he didn't know it. So in his good little beaver way, he knocked down tree after tree to make a beautiful dam and attract a nice beaver girl to be his love.
But he made the dam, and a nice little pond, and waited and waited, and no beaver girl came.
So he decided that perhaps his dam wasn't good enough, and he decided to try again. He knocked down a whole new set of trees and made a new dam, bigger and better than the last, and waited and waited, sure that this was the dam that would attract the beaver of his dreams. But she never came.
So he tried again, and again, building dam after dam, practically destroying his island home in the process. Once, humans even tried to take him back to the mainland, but he did not want to abandon his masterful dam so he swam right back out. And there he died. A poor beaver, sad and alone, surrounded by nothing but his empty dams.
(story is true, anthropomorphizing is all mine)
But he made the dam, and a nice little pond, and waited and waited, and no beaver girl came.
So he decided that perhaps his dam wasn't good enough, and he decided to try again. He knocked down a whole new set of trees and made a new dam, bigger and better than the last, and waited and waited, sure that this was the dam that would attract the beaver of his dreams. But she never came.
So he tried again, and again, building dam after dam, practically destroying his island home in the process. Once, humans even tried to take him back to the mainland, but he did not want to abandon his masterful dam so he swam right back out. And there he died. A poor beaver, sad and alone, surrounded by nothing but his empty dams.
(story is true, anthropomorphizing is all mine)