Once upon a time a wild fever swept through the dog population of a dusty village far to the east. The dogs viciously tore apart the town, killing without sense all animals as well as the poor villagers. Within a day and a night the entire village was desolate, but for packs of wild dogs loping around with glazed eyes and blood-soaked fur. There was nothing to eat. In the heat of the summer, disease and pestilence soon spread around, and the wild dogs, lean with hunger, left the desolate village in search of food. Their rage-induce wanderings sent them barking and yelping through unkown territories over vast distances, through ice-floes and fiery deserts, till at last they came to the outskirts of a great city, with a towering wall and shining minarets peaking above. They followed the wafting smells of delicate meats for three days until they arrived at the steep gate. Few dogs were left. Some had died on the way from starvation. Others had fallen to the fangs of their own brothers. They were tired and now, but for a strange look in the eye, seemed almost tame. When the few dozen dogs arrived at the city, night had long since fallen. The gates were shut tight. The dogs were determined, and they yelped and howled and scratched at the doors in vain for many hours. Finally the watchman was wakened, and the mayor was notified. A team of animal-handlers was sent out to examine the poor beasts, which were presently brought inside the gates to the warmth and safety of the great city. The dogs, they noticed, though strange in appearance, as though coming from far away (for they had not seen such breeds before) did not seem to pose a threat at first as they went through the gates. They were lean and tired, and followed willingly. But when the smell of roasting meat and the sight of other dogs native to the city then incited their lusts, the madness awoke again in their spirit. They tore away from the dog-handlers and soon fell upon the citizens, striking to the left and right, ripping babies out of cradles, preying upon the elderly citizens, satisfying their lusts upon the native bitches, and plundering cupboards to take their fill of food. In two weeks the great city became as quiet as it had been thousands of years before it had been built. Only the buzzing of flies and the intermittent shrieking of vultures disturbed the slumbering ruin….
It was justified.
Moral of the story: Nature Hates browns.
No mention of the solution eh?
Shovels fix rabid dogs.
the name of this fever? the Blue Wave