Once upon a time there was a large red fox named Phinneas P.
Phoxmore. Phinneas lived in a lovely
forest just outside a small village. The
forest was green and lush and home to a delightful variety of creatures.
Phinneas was most definitely not an ordinary fox. He paid very close attention to the condition
of his fur and kept himself scrupulously clean and neat at all times. But beyond that, Phinneas had developed the
marvelous ability to walk upright on his hind legs, and he did this so
frequently that he had lost the ability to move like a lowly four-legged
beast. Although Phinneas was on civil
terms with his neighbors, he was not particularly friendly with any of
them. Of course not a soul in the forest
would consider addressing Phinneas as “Phinny” or “Phoxy,” and Phinneas kept
pretty much to himself.
One fine summer morning, Phinneas rose from his soft
featherbed and stretched a great stretch.
He proceeded to dress himself with his usual attentive care: grey
trousers, white silk shirt, black vest with a pocket for his gold watch, black
velvet jacket, finely knit black socks, and shiny black leather boots. After he combed his whiskers until they were
glossy and straight and spritzed himself with rose water, he strode out into
the sunshine.
As Phinneas walked down the path that led from his perfectly
shaped oak tree home, he noticed a squirrel precariously hanging from a branch
above him and considered how undignified he looked. Next, he noticed two chipmunks dashing around
bushes. “How fortunate that I take my
time to walk this forest and breathe this fine air,” he mused. As Phinneas reached the stream that bisected
the area, a startled frog hopped into the water. Phinneas gazed at the ripples created by the
frog’s entry into the water and shuddered at the thought of being green, slimy,
and required to swim in cold water. He
had never learned to swim and couldn’t think of any reason why he should. And as Phinneas noticed a robin gracefully
fly from one tree to the next, he thought, “It might be nice to fly, but not if
I had to be naked like that bird!” A
ground hog popped his head out of a hole.
Phinneas didn’t really hear his friendly greeting as he considered the
poor ground hog’s disheveled whiskers, filthy nails, and clumps of dirt that
clung to its fur. Phinneas quickened his
pace and turned toward home. Soon he
came upon a bear taking a drink from the stream. As Phinneas neared, the bear lifted his head,
water dripping from his tongue and mouth and wetting the fur under his
chin. “Doesn’t he know to use a gourd
cup and leaf napkin?” Phinneas asked himself.
Phinneas arrived home and spent the remainder of the day
tidying his cozy den, sunning himself, trimming the tip of his sparkling white tail,
and roasting a brace of quail he had caught in a trap (of course he would never
risk getting his fine clothes messy). He
enjoyed a quiet supper and a good book before washing his face and paws,
removing his day clothes and donning his night clothes, and going to bed. Phinneas immediately fell into a deep
sleep.
As Phinneas slept, tragedy struck in the nearby
village. After sundown, the villagers
gathered for their annual midsummer festival.
A huge bonfire was lit as the music began. In the excitement, a young girl raced too
close to the fire, and the rag doll that swung in her hand caught fire. In terror, she ran to her mother, who grabbed
the burning doll and flung it from them as far as she could. The doll landed in a small pile of hay which
quickly caught fire, and in a blink an entire row of cottages was engulfed in
flames. The dry brush along the edge of
the village soon caught fire as well, and before long flames extended into the
forest.
Phinneas awoke to the sounds of frightened animals and tree
branches crackling and crashing. He
arose, and grumbling about the disturbance, looked out his window. What he saw brought him to a full state of
wakefulness: he hurriedly dressed himself and dashed out of his tree just as
its outer branches caught fire. It was
impossible to see clearly in the dark and with all the smoke, but the
encroaching wall of fire was unmistakable, and Phinneas joined the other
residents of the forest in fleeing from its path.
As he fought his way through the dense underbrush of the
forest, Phinneas noticed a family of squirrels wildly swinging from branch to
branch and tree to tree as they avoided the confusion underneath them. The chipmunks he had observed that morning were
still running, though now with purpose.
With their speed, agility, and small size, they were soon out of sight
and well out of harm’s way. When
Phinneas reached the stream that divided the forest, he watched enviously as frogs
and snakes and other creatures plunged into the water to swim to the other
side, and safety. He began to grumble as
he considered his long hike around the forest, and the fear of not making it
out of the forest in time began to creep into his mind. He began to move as fast as his two legs
would carry him.
The fire was moving faster than he was! Close to panic now and becoming hot and
breathless, Phinneas admired the birds flying unencumbered overhead as he threw
off his jacket; he rounded a corner and encountered a wall of thick
shrubs. He squeezed through a small hole,
knocking his hat off, but before he could break completely free, the chain that
held his watch caught on a protruding branch and would not release him. He tugged and tugged but finally had to
detach the chain from his vest, leaving it and his watch hanging in the
shrub. He staggered forward and hurried
on, driven by the wall of heat and smoke that was catching up to him. Before
long he encountered an immense tangle of thorny vines. He would be shredded if he attempted to push
through it, but the fire was right behind him.
What to do? At the last second,
he noticed a small, dark tunnel that another animal had carved through the
earth to tunnel under the thorns.
Phinneas hesitated for just a second, and then cautiously put his front
feet down onto the ground, crouched low, and lowered himself into the
tunnel. It was quite a tight fit, and
Phinneas felt like he was going to suffocate.
The second’s hesitation entering the tunnel had cost him, though, and
the white tip of his tail was singed as the proximity of the fire reminded him
to press on.
Phinneas came to the other side and once again encountered
the stream. He understood that he needed
to get across the stream, but he couldn’t swim!
He staggered along the edge, sometimes on two feet, sometimes on four,
trying in desperation to put distance between himself and the fire. But as long as he was on the near side of the
stream, he would not be safe. He removed
his boots from his blistered feet and hobbled forward. Finally, he came to a makeshift bridge made
of stones and boulders. It appeared
dark, slippery, and unsafe, but it was Phinneas’s best chance to escape the
oncoming flames. Standing upright, he
put one tentative back foot on the first boulder. The rock remained in place, and Phinneas
started to make his way across the stream.
It didn’t take long for him to start to slip and slide, and before long
he was on all fours, wet and muddy and clinging to any surface he could. It was a slow and terrifying journey, but he eventually
made it to the far side of the stream and to safety.
Phinneas collapsed on the stream bank and caught his
breath. His thirst was overpowering and
without a second thought he plunged most of his head into the cool water. He took a long, long drink, and then with
water dripping down his face and throat, Phinneas retreated to a soft bed of
brush and curled into a tight ball. Although
he could hear the rustlings of other animals who had fled the blazing forest,
he could not keep his eyes open, and soon he was in a deep sleep. He awoke several hours later to a bright,
sunny day. The once lush and green
forest was charred and smoking. Nothing
was the same, and neither was Phinneas.
He was filthy and unkempt; he was half-dressed; his whiskers were
crumpled and his tail was singed. But he
alive and able to appreciate the strengths of his fellow creatures, who, he was
grateful to discover, were kind and helpful.
And so Phinneas lived happily ever after.
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