There was once a veterinarian who loved to hack gene sequences. One day
he successfully grafted pieces of cantaloup DNA to the DNA of a dog
zygote. The engineered zygote soon developed into a little puppy. The
result was far less dramatic than one might expect. The animal was
recognizably canine, if tiny and roly poly. Its fur had an overall
orange tint. The vet raised the puppy to adulthood and all was generally
fine, though the animal was rather small and rotund.
The veterinarian noticed that his dog was becoming lethargic and
increasingly morose. Being concerned with the animal’s overall health
and mental well-being, the vet tried many things to cure his dog’s
apparent depression. After all, he felt guilty that its growing
languishment could be the direct result of his genetic experimentation.
He tried altering the animal’s diet, its exercise, and its play, but
nothing seemed to help. Finally he took the dog to an animal
The vet sat in the waiting room while the orange tinted dog was in
with the animal counselor. Finally the door opened, and the veterinarian
rose to his feet. The psychiatrist came out with the dog.
“Tell me, Doctor. What’s wrong? Is my dog going to be okay?”
“Don’t worry, Doctor. He’ll be fine. He’s just a little melon collie.”
"There is no free will," said the old sage, "for you may not choose your parents nor the hour of your birth, neither may you select the time and manner of your death, nor may you have any voice in what passes in between, although if you can afford a good plastic surgeon, you might be able to pick your own nose."
In the neurobiology lecture, the professor mentioned that much of the data was culled from studies of leeches.
He said, "Now, a lot of you may think leeches are nasty creatures. The people working with these creatures are quite fond of them, however. It is also reported that the leeches often become attached to the researchers."
"Life is a gamble," Mother Cabbage told her offspring, Brussels Sprout. "You have to weather storms and drought. You have to fend off animals, bugs, mold, and rot. But if you hang in there, you'll grow."
"I'll try," said the little Sprout. "But how long does this take. When should I stop growing?"
"As with any other gamble," said Mother Cabbage, "quit when you're a head."