It was a cold winter day on the Hansen Farm, north of Oshawa, Ontario. The frost hung onto the window panes of the brightly painted red barn.
“Why is it so cold?” asked Fawn, standing in his stall, shivering.
“It’s winter,” said Spot.
“How come you’re not shivering?” asked Fawn.
“Probably because I eat hay,” said Spot.
Fawn shrugged and turned up his nose.
“What is the matter with hay?” asked Spot. “That is what we cows are supposed to eat?”
“Well, I don’t like hay,” said Fawn. “I wish the Hansen children would hurry up with my breakfast.”
“They are probably going to wait until it warms up a bit, first,” said Spot.
“Oh sure!” exclaimed Fawn. “It’s alright to leave me with no breakfast, just as long as they are nice and warm.”
“What’s this complaining I hear?” asked Mr. Hansen, with a plate of left-over french-fries and a can of orange pop.
“Nothing,” said Fawn, quickly taking the food from Mr. Hansen and just as quickly eating it.
“You two better stay inside today,” said Mr. Hansen. “It is very cold outside.”
“Okay,” said Spot. “We will.”
“When is it going to warm up?” asked Fawn.
“Spring,” said Mr. Hansen, going out of the barn and closing the door behind him.
“When is spring going to come?” Fawn asked Spot.
“In about a week or two,” said Spot.
“I wish it would hurry up,” said Fawn. “It is too cold to do anything. We’ve been cooped up in this barn for months now.”
“Fawn,” said Spot. “We’ve only been cooped up in here for a couple of minutes.”
“Well,” said Fawn. “It sure feels like months. I want green grass and warm sunshine.”
“The green grass won’t do you any good,” said Spot. “You don’t eat it.”
“But, I can roll around in it,” said Fawn.
For the next two weeks, it remained bitterly cold and Fawn did not stop his complaining the whole time. Then, all of a sudden, spring came. The grass turned green and the sun was shining, bright.
“Look Fawn,” said Spot, pointing out the barn window. “It’s now spring!”
“Great!” exclaimed Fawn angrily. “I was just going to go outside and play in the snow!”
“Oh Fawn!” exclaimed Spot. “You are impossible.”
Moral of this Story: