Nasrudin went to his window and found sitting on the sill, a bedraggled, very tired, rare peregrine falcon. In fact, it was so rare in those parts, that Nasrudin had never seen such a species in his life. He brought the bushed bird inside remarking, “You poor thing. How on earth did this happen?” Fetching his nail scissors, he clipped the end of the bird’s beak so that it looked straight, cut his talons and trimmed its feathers.
“That is much better. Now you look more like a bird.”