The young girl awoke with a start to the sound of desperate bleating. She quickly dressed and ran outside, fearing the worst. The pen which held her sheep—her precious sheep that she cared for daily—was open. Carcasses and blood were everywhere. She had to find her father; he was the only one who could help.
“Daddy!” she cried, running up to him, “a wolf’s gotten in the pen.”
“I know,” the father said.
“Please do something,” she sobbed. “They’re being killed and suffering terribly.”
“But the sheep let the wolf into the pen,” said the father as he turned away to resume his work. “They were curious about the animal. They had never seen a wolf before, so they knocked the gate open.”
“But they’re sheep!” the girl practically screamed at him. “They couldn’t possibly understand the consequences.”
“I’m sorry, dear,” said the father. “I warned them what would happen. They did not listen.”
“But they’re sheep!” she said again—this time even louder. “You would let them suffer and die over this stupid choice? They can’t see and think like you.”
“Even so,” said the father solemnly, “it is better for them if I do not interfere.”
Outside the slaughter continued as the wolf savagely ripped out the throats of its victims. The father did nothing.