The Fable of Proper Gander

The Fable of Proper Gander

Proper Gander patrolled the farm yard with a superior air, trolling its population for improper appearance and lax adherence to his rule.  If one tried to speak out in candor, Proper Gander flew at him with shrieks of slander. It was a rule of indoctrination, strictly enforced with intimidation. There was no room in his realm for reason and critical thinking. To do so was looked upon as treason. His watchful eye scanned each action, quick to call out each failure to comply.

For the ducks, he decreed they march all in a row, tallest to smallest, travel a medium pace, and making sure to keep an equal space. He decried any deviance and honked out his orders to any who might meander.

The cows were expected to keep to the cow pasture and should they venture into the barnyard, he was quick to put them in their place. Properly scolded, they returned to their pasture quickly, heads bowed, regretting their estray.

His scrutiny of the goats was met with a thinly veiled mutiny. They ignored his loud protests and attempts at enforcing law and order. Each herd member appeared incapable of following rules, masking their nonconformity with pretend stupidity. To the sheep he granted impunity and they were written off of as dullards, for he could not conceive that anyone could be capable of mass conspiracy to such lunacy.

Even the farm dogs acquiesced to his supremacy. The farmer had assigned them protection of the farm, but in fear of nonconformity, they bowed to Proper Gander’s agenda. Any attempt to enforce farm law by the guardians was met with loud honks, flapping wings, and biting attacks. The dogs quickly backed down and gave way to Proper Gander, abdicating their role.

The barn cats chose to live on the periphery, out of sight and reach of his pious perusal. Sequestered to the barn, they lounged in luxury, watching with amusement the daily barnyard charades and compliant ducks on parade.

Proper Gander remained in control of the minds and bodies of the barnyard masses…until one day his head was placed upon a block and his body upon the table. And thus was the end of Proper Gander and his fascist fable.

The barnyard citizens breathed a collective sigh, but their freedom was short-lived. Proper Gander’ s son, Sir Valence, grew up and took his place.


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