Workhorse’s Grumpy Morning

Workhorse was always the first one up at the Mighty Zoo. Before the sun, before the birds, before anyone else had even rolled over, he was hauling buckets of breakfast from the feed barn.

This morning, he’d been up even earlier, because the water pump was squeaking and somebody had to fix it. Somebody always had to fix something.

“Can I help?” asked Fearless Cub, bouncing into the barn. He grabbed a bucket that was much too big for him, wobbled, and… SPLOOSH. Oats everywhere.

“I’ll do it MYSELF!” Workhorse snapped, louder than he meant to. “You’re just making more work!”

Fearless Cub’s ears flattened. He backed out of the barn without a word.

Workhorse stood in the spilled oats and felt terrible. He wasn’t a mean donkey. He was a tired one. But Cub didn’t know the difference, and right now, neither did he.

Generous Piggy found him sweeping, very slowly. “When did you last eat?” she asked.

Workhorse thought. “Yesterday? Lunch, maybe?”

Piggy pushed a warm oat muffin into his hooves and sat him down on a hay bale. “Cranky isn’t who you are,” she said. “It’s what tired looks like on you.”

After the muffin, Workhorse found Fearless Cub sitting by the gate. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said. “It wasn’t about you. I was running on empty.”

Cub thought about it. “Maybe I could carry the small buckets? Every day? Then you could sleep a little longer.”

So they did. The next morning, the breakfast rounds took a little longer, and there was a bit more giggling, and Workhorse arrived at the barn a whole hour after sunrise, well rested and humming.