Chapter One

                                    
  Henrietta was a flying pain-machine.   She bit.  She sucked blood.  Her pincers, like sharp knives, cut through the toughest skin—definitely not a great way to make friends. More than anything, though, that’s what Henrietta wanted. But who would want to be friends with her?  Nobody.

There were two other problems. One: horseflies only lived a week, so her friend-making time was short. Two: horseflies had to suck blood to live, and who was there to suck blood from?  Her hoped-for new friends.  So, what was she to do? She knew to make friends, she'd have to earn their trust. The question was, how? It was not an easy task for a horsefly .

 Her first friend-attempt was Aristotle, a retired plough horse on the farm where she lived. 
He slept most of the time. He was asleep when Henrietta bit him.  Jerking awake,he mumbled, "I beg you to cease."

Henrietta apologized. “I'm sorry, Aristotle."

ZZZZZZZ.

Henrietta flew up into his left ear and stretched out, nice and comfy.  She loved his soft ear hairs and decided this would be her home. 

Aristotle didn’t particularly like her living in his ear.  What was he doing, anyway, talking to this pest?  His tormentor!  Henrietta for a friend?  Made no sense at all.  However, he had to admit he enjoyed having someone who wanted to talk to him.  The other residents of the farm were tired of having to repeat themselves, as he was hard of hearing. Henrietta’s nearness in his ear made chats a lot easier. But he very much disliked getting bitten.  So, friends?  Henrietta sure thought they were. 

One day, after her blood-sucking rounds, Henrietta was settling in Aristotle’s ear for a nap, when she heard, “Hey, horsefly!  I have a question for you.”

Henrietta peered over at the stall gate where a calico cat was licking her fur. “Are you talking to me?”

The cat looked up.  “I am. I am curious to know what your purpose in life is besides bringing pain to us all?  What possible good are you?”  She stared at Henrietta for a few seconds, jumped down and walked away, swishing her tail.

Henrietta wondered, did she have a purpose?  Surely, she was meant to do more than suck blood.  Maybe Aristotle knew. Leaving the soft, comfort of his ear, she flew around to his face where she could look him in the eye.  It was closed, of course.

“Ahem!” she said. The old horse’s eyes remained closed.  She tried again. “AHEM!”

Aristotle jerked awake.  “What!?  Henrietta, why are you waking me?” 

“I have an important question.”

“So sayeth you,” he said, yawning.

“What is my purpose?”

Aristotle snorted.  “To drain us all dry.”

“That’s it? That’s all?”

“Let's see.  You could cease. ZZZZ”

“But if I stop, I die.” Henrietta sighed and flew back to his ear.