A Penny Saved, a Penny Earned
Another story from the Sheep Pen series.
It was the Great Sheep-Shearing Season, and pens all over the city were happily shearing away wool for their customers. The Shepherd, who also happened to supervise the shearing workers, was particularly happy. He had just discovered a method of shearing that would increase productivity, and had taught all his workers the new method. It was going to be a windfall in wool shearing for his boss.
Disturbing news came a week later – productivity was so low, that all other pens were laughing at him. He could not understand it, until he checked – and discovered that all his workers had been given pocket knives instead of electric shears to shear off the wool. He was livid, and spoke to the Purchasing Manager, who told him proudly, “Electric shears cost 160 pennies each, pocket knives cost 5 pennies each. I’ve just saved the pen hundreds of pennies. They work fine – you can use them to shear, no problem…just take a bit more effort, that’s all.”
The Shepherd could only shake his head sadly. The Purchasing Manager was related to the boss of the pen, and he knew whom the boss would tend to believe if he were to bring up the matter. From his own pocket, he quietly paid up 2400 pennies to ensure the operations continue smoothly.
The Sheepdog (who had grown very close to the Shepherd over the years) howled in pain as he observed the Shepherd. It was hard-earned money that the shepherd forked out, money that should rightly have been spent on his children, on building up his retirement. It should not have been spent on building another person’s wealth, on covering another person’s mistakes in judgement.
Sheepdogs have no use for money, but he would not do such a thing were he in the Shepherd’s position. He would simply tell his workers to do what they can, and use the poor results to hang the Purchasing Manager (Machevallian, but that’s the way it should go sometimes).
Once again, the Sheepdog looked at the forest, at the wolves howling for him to join them. Once again, he remembered the promise he had made, and turned back to the sheep. This time, he noticed that the Shepherd had been gazing at the wide expanses of the big blue sky.
The Sheepdog snuggled next to him, and fell asleep dreaming of wolves and the big blue sky.
It was the Great Sheep-Shearing Season, and pens all over the city were happily shearing away wool for their customers. The Shepherd, who also happened to supervise the shearing workers, was particularly happy. He had just discovered a method of shearing that would increase productivity, and had taught all his workers the new method. It was going to be a windfall in wool shearing for his boss.
Disturbing news came a week later – productivity was so low, that all other pens were laughing at him. He could not understand it, until he checked – and discovered that all his workers had been given pocket knives instead of electric shears to shear off the wool. He was livid, and spoke to the Purchasing Manager, who told him proudly, “Electric shears cost 160 pennies each, pocket knives cost 5 pennies each. I’ve just saved the pen hundreds of pennies. They work fine – you can use them to shear, no problem…just take a bit more effort, that’s all.”
The Shepherd could only shake his head sadly. The Purchasing Manager was related to the boss of the pen, and he knew whom the boss would tend to believe if he were to bring up the matter. From his own pocket, he quietly paid up 2400 pennies to ensure the operations continue smoothly.
The Sheepdog (who had grown very close to the Shepherd over the years) howled in pain as he observed the Shepherd. It was hard-earned money that the shepherd forked out, money that should rightly have been spent on his children, on building up his retirement. It should not have been spent on building another person’s wealth, on covering another person’s mistakes in judgement.
Sheepdogs have no use for money, but he would not do such a thing were he in the Shepherd’s position. He would simply tell his workers to do what they can, and use the poor results to hang the Purchasing Manager (Machevallian, but that’s the way it should go sometimes).
Once again, the Sheepdog looked at the forest, at the wolves howling for him to join them. Once again, he remembered the promise he had made, and turned back to the sheep. This time, he noticed that the Shepherd had been gazing at the wide expanses of the big blue sky.
The Sheepdog snuggled next to him, and fell asleep dreaming of wolves and the big blue sky.
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