Cecil the Dapper Fox
Cecil the Dapper Fox awoke and stretched out luxuriously. Oh what a splendid March morning it was. Patting the grass off his grey pinstripe suit; he raised himself to his hind legs and leaned heavily onto a silver tipped black cane. With his free paw; he adjusted his bowler hat to a jaunty angle and shined his brass monocle until it glowed in the Spring sunlight.
“Ahhh,” the Fox proclaimed contentedly, swishing his bushy tail. “What a lovely day. However, I am rather famished; what sustenance can be found in the vicinity of this lovely spot?”
A Hare ran away.
Cecil the Dapper Fox walked steadily on his hind legs, using his silver tipped cane to hold his balance. “I say old chap! I say!” He called after the black tipped Hare ears disappearing into the distance. Cecil paused to take in the fresh air and rest upon his cane awhile.
“Well I never! What a terribly rude fellow. I must remember to eat him on our next meeting, such poor manners indeed.”
Cecil gazed toward where the Hare had run. “To the field, obviously!” And so Cecil wobbled slowly off towards the grassy field on this pretty April day.
The field was home to Alphonse the amiable Bull. Cecil the Dapper Fox approached the big bovine. “I say Alphonse, have you perchance spotted a Hare running through your field, old boy?”
Alphonse snorted; “Aye I has, they set me right straight after I fells over. Long gone now though Foxy.”
Cecil sighed. This was not to be his day. In the late Spring May morning; he pondered where he might find some fresh produce. He snapped his fingers together. An idea!
“Aha! Of course! I should go straight to the source, there’s sure to be food at the farm.”
No sooner had Cecil the Dapper Fox wobbling gracefully on his hind legs and nifty cane made toward the farm when he was accosted by thirty gossiping Bees.
“Shoo, you tedious creatures! Take your nonsense elsewhere! Shoo!” said Cecil as he swiped at the Bees with his silver tipped cane. Without his crutch Cecil fell to the soft dewy June floor with a bang. Bees filled his ears with nonsense:
“Bzzzz. You see who Samantha was with last night? The scandal!”
Cecil forgot his cane and his natty hat flew away as he ran on four legs to the farm.
In the summery July weather, Cecil the Dapper Fox regained his breath and composure.
“Well, to the farm I go and see if Felicity has any supper he might share.”
Walking on all fours, he suavely made his way over to Felicity the Cat, basking in the sunlight. “I say Felicity; isn’t that a girl’s name anyway, old boy?”
Felicity opened an eyelid slightly. “Get lost,” he said and abruptly went back to sleep.
“I though stout folk were meant to be jolly!” Retorted Cecil as he slunk away in search of food. Perhaps something in the forest over there?
August and the end of summer was upon the land. Cecil the Dapper Fox was making his way to the forest in search of food. The fields were filled with golden wheat and the sky was clear and blue.
“I’m sure I spied with my Foxy eye Brownie the rabbit, some exceedingly fashionable Mice and that Hare I needed to have words with running into the forest!” Exclaimed Cecil as he approached the trees.
As Cecil gave chase, his gleaming monocle fell and was left behind. On reaching the trees, there was no sight of his prey. “Drat!” said Cecil.
Cecil the Dapper Fox trudged on through the forest; from above Squirrels were looking down from the treetops, silhouetted against the hazy September sky. Autumn took over the forest and the leaves fell from the trees, golden, red and yellow to the floor. Cecil’s lovely suit had become muddied and tattered after walking for so long on four legs.
“Oh my splendid suit is most ruined!” He said sadly, shaking his head and swishing his luxurious bushy tail tipped with white.
‘Well now,” he continued “I suppose I had better make my way home and find a change of clothes.”
Hooting from above; the wise old Owl was heard in the forest, the crisp October air carrying the sound right into Cecil the Dapper Fox‘s pointy ears.
“For such a peaceful place, this forest does seem to be quite noisy.” observed Cecil and he sniffed around for tracks of his Hare prey.
“Oh drat and double drat, I appear to have lost them again!” He said disheartened. Autumn was a busy time, with the animals of the forest scurrying around making preparations for winter.
Cecil sat on his haunches. The lack of nourishing food was making him feel most dizzy.
In the early November frosts, the perky Robin squawked from a branch of a large maple tree, his red breast huffing and puffing in and out excitedly:
“Warning! Warning! Winter is almost here and there’s a Fox stalking through the forest! Warning!”
“Oh do shut up!” Snapped Cecil the Dapper Fox. The birds and their incessant talking gave him such a headache. He still hadn’t found any food; signs of an acorn banquet were all he discovered with none left for him.
He trotted on towards his den where he possibly had a tin of soup to satisfy his appetite.
“Oh dear,” thought Cecil the Dapper Fox as he made his way through the wintry forest this December day; for before him was a gigantic and majestic Stag.
“I’ll be taking a detour around him,” muttered Cecil as he made his way through the dark cold depths of the woods.
“No food for Cecil, no food today; no problem at all, there’s always a way!” Cecil hummed as he walked on, ears pricked and red fur shining brightly in the end of year sunshine.
In the snow he keenly spotted tracks of Hares and of Belinda the snowy rabbit.
“Dinner!”
Tony the Red Rooster strutted up and down in a cocky manner; well until he saw Cecil the Dapper Fox charging toward him. He strode away as fast as his Rooster legs would carry him and hid behind a tree.
“Oh where did that boasting Rooster go now? I almost had him finally!” Cecil exclaimed. “Never mind, I’ll catch you next time old lad!” He said calling out after Tony.
“I wonder how to cook Belinda; maybe with wine and some herbs. A lovely stew to warm me up this cool January day.” Cecil pondered walking on toward the fields.
The Sheep and Lambs panicked at the sight of Cecil the Dapper Fox. February brought predators, so they taught themselves to climb trees. They hid in the branches of a massive oak as the Fox walked past oblivious to the woolly birds.
“Almost home,” said Cecil trotting gently under the grand oak tree. “I’m quite sure I can smell something delicious” He looked but no food was in sight, clothes ruined and he had also lost the tracks of the tasty Hares.
“Oh well,” he sighed. “I’ll just have to eat these two chickens I got from the farm instead!”
The Angry Farmer 
