Up in a garden tree was Willie the willie wagtail. See, Willie was tired of being a willie wagtail. Ah! I’m just a puny black and white bird, he thought.
“I know!” he said. “From now on, l’m going to be a mouse-chasing cat. Or a web-spinning spider. Or even a slithering snake. They’re way cooler!”
Willie tried to run and pounce, but his bird legs could only take tiny steps. He tried to weave perfect spirals, and oh, his abdomen pushed and pushed! Well, no silk threads outta there. He tried to glide through the grass, but the other birds laughed at him wriggling around. Willie lowered his head, retreating to his nest. “Why can’t I be like them?” he asked Mum.
“Oh, Willie,” said Mom, she crossed her feathers. “Watch us carefully.” And watch, Willie did. They flared their white eyebrows to ward off magpies three times their size. They beat their wings and chased insects mid-air, swiftly dipping here and there. They even leapt off a cat’s back to show who’s boss! And at night, Willie saw them take centre stage by singing perfect melodies. “We’re survivors,” said Willie’s mom. “It’s in our DNA to be clever, courageous and creative too.”
When the next full moon came, Willie sang louder than ever before. All Willie wanted to be was a willie wagtail.