It's old, but I had occasion to send it along anew today and thought I would repeat it here as well:
Once upon a time, there was a little bird who decided not to fly south for the winter. His friends begged and cajoled, but he was adamant. So his friends took off to the south and the little bird sat on his branch.
Pretty soon, the winds grew colder and the snow began to fall. The little bird decided he had made a mistake and he took off after his friends. Alas, he was too late: The temperature was below zero and the ice formed on his wings as he flew. He grew more and more tired and finally he just plain gave up and plummeted to earth.
As it happened, he landed in a field of cows and as the little bird lay there, waiting to expire, a passing cow crapped all over him. The manure warmed him and thawed his wings. He would survive! The little bird was so happy that he began to sing. A passing cat heard the singing, dug through the manure, found the little bird and promptly ate him.
There are three morals to this story:
1. Not everyone who shits on you is necessarily your enemy.
2. Not everyone who gets you out of the shit is necessarily your friend.
3. If you're happy in your own pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.