The elephant rammed into a tree. He looked up with some surprise and then stepped back, shattering a wooden fence. He turned around to see what the noise was and gouged another tree with one of his tusks. The birds were, by this time, in an uproar, the monkeys were scaling the nearest vines amid much chattering, and a passing hyena was laughing uproariously. The elephant ambled unconcernedly away from the havoc he had created and started along the narrow path. He broke off branches, stomped bushes into oblivion, and uprooted a tree for the sheer joy of it. He gently snatched a startled toucan bird out of a branch with his trunk and started to tickle him with little snorts of air. The bird began to giggle, and the elephant let him fly away. The whole jungle was now frantic, and it was not long before a cloud came scudding across the sky.
“What the hell?” asked the cloud.
The elephant looked up and smiled.
“You’re drunk,” said the cloud.
The elephant filled his cheeks as full as they would go and trumpeted very loudly.
“Oh dear,” said the cloud.
The elephant marched around in a tiny circle and then trumpeted again.
“You’re in love,” said God.
“You got it,” said the elephant, nodding vigorously.
“It had to happen sometime,” the cloud sighed.
“Birds do it, bees do it,” the elephant started singing.
“Even elephants with knees do it,” chimed in God. “I know, I know.”
The elephant grinned foolishly and stopped moving about. “Any lessons to be learned?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” God sighed again. “So much.”
“Well, I’m ready.” The elephant kicked up his heels, a difficult task at the best of times. “Teach me.”
“Oh no.” The cloud started to rise into the air. “You’re on your own this time. Love is for lovers to teach.” The cloud moved away, casting a shadow across the elephant, who was now trying to dance on his hind legs. God had to chuckle, knowing only too well the feelings: warmed by the joy.