A farmer of Nineveh who understood the language of animals would linger each evening in his farmyard, listening to what his beasts said to one another. One night he heard the ox complaining to the donkey: “No matter how hot the day, no matter how tired my legs, no matter how the yoke chafes my neck, I must drag the plough from morning till night, every single day. But you do nothing. Wrapped in a colorful blanket, you carry our master wherever he wishes to go, and when he goes nowhere you rest all day and eat the green grass.”

The donkey — a good soul, apart from his cruel kicks — sympathized with the ox. “My dear friend,” he replied, “you truly do work too hard. But I know what you should do to win yourself some rest. Tomorrow morning, when the slave comes to lead you to the plough, lie down on the ground and groan, so that he thinks you are sick and cannot work.”

The next morning the ox did exactly as the donkey had advised, and the slave went to the farmer and reported that the ox was ill and could not pull the plough that day.

“Very well, then,” said the farmer. “Yoke the donkey to the plough, for the fields must be tilled today.” And so the donkey, who had only meant to help his friend, was forced to do the ox’s work all day long. By evening, when the plough was unhitched, his heart was broken, his legs were exhausted, and his neck was swollen and sore from the yoke.

The farmer lingered in the yard again to hear what they would say. The ox spoke first: “You are a good friend. Thanks to your wise advice, I rested all day.”

“And I,” said the donkey bitterly, “like every well-meaning fool, took on my friend’s burden while trying to help him. From now on, whatever happens, you will pull the plough yourself — for I heard the master order the slave to call the butcher if you do not work again. You are so lazy that I almost wish they would.” After that they never spoke again, and their friendship was over.

The moral of this story is simple: if you wish to help a friend, do it in a way that does not leave you carrying their responsibilities.

— George S. Clason, “The Richest Man in Babylon”