The flowers were blooming, and the bees kissed them every now and then. Weed knew that life was short, and he would get uprooted by the gardener on the weekend. It had happened to each one of his brethren.
The scenario changed as Dawg walked in, looking unwell, but sniffing at each one of them. He pulled out three blades and chewed on them. The garden always looked affectionately at this furry, four-legged creature and allowed him to rest in the shade. Dawg had never tried to harm any of them. Weed watched Dawg disappearing behind the bushes on the pavement to relieve himself. He then fell asleep and looked comfortable, as his illness was cured.
Weed envied the three blades. Their life had ended for a cause – to cure Dawg of his discomfort. The others would soon be forgotten, as parasites are not welcome anywhere. How he wished he was a plant, with flowers blooming on it…..