The Monkey was exalting itself. It felt that it was superior to everyone because it had property. The Monkey relished just gazing at all the land that belonged to it and no one else.
When it wasn’t admiring its own egotism, the Monkey could usually be inside, isolated in its computer room.
Then, one day, the Monkey went outside to admire its land, only to see a groundhog perched up on it, shoulders back, paws tucked in, peepin’ around.
The Monkey was disgusted that there was a vagabond, homeless ground hog on its supreme property. It was a little intimidating.
The Monkey ran back in the house to figure out what to do.
After contemplation, the Monkey decided to go back outside. For a moment, the groundhog was not to be found. But eventually, it surfaced—out of a brand new hole!
“What are you doing on my land?!” screamed the Monkey.
“What are you doing on MY land?!” the Groundhog replied.
After a moment of silence between the two of them, emotions soothed.
“Listen, this is my property,” said the Monkey.
“Since when?” asked the Groundhog, tilting its head. “My family’s been here for generations and generations. For real, you’re on my property.”
But the Groundhog wasn’t greedy. “The Earth belongs to all creatures,” said the Groundhog. “We’re equals. Just because I live under the ground doesn’t mean anything. That’s just where I live. As you live where you live.”
The Monkey thought about that.
“Since we’ve co-existed for so long without your knowledge, why don’t we just keep coexisting?” proposed the Groundhog.
“Well if that’s all true—I think you’re right,” said the Monkey. “You’ve never harmed me. How about you stay a groundhog and stay a monkey.”
They laughed together and agreed.
The Monkey went back and sat on its porch. The groundhog stayed above ground to munch on some more grass. And there was no more discussion about matters of co-existence. It wasn’t just in their best interest—they were happy.
The Monkey and the Groundhog grew to be friends, as close as family. And they were COOL.
