BADGER AND THE FOX

Far beyond the stream and hill

over meadows and so much further still

lived a badger – Brock.

A wily creature fit and bold

known for his wisdom and, so I'm told

his stripes

of black and white, a large wet nose

a cunning mind and, so the story goes

an amazing sense of smell.

And on that eve, as shadows fall

begins the tale as I recall...

A freezing night, with ice and snow

and Brock still had a way to go -

but his nose it began to twitch

and itch.

He scrubbed it hard with freezing paw

sneezed the once and sniffed some more

something was definitely coming!

'Wild Cat,' he growled as the scent grew strong

'Large - maybe two, unless I'm wrong

and its five...

or more.'

So he ran... very fast.

Faster than me when I was young

quicker than rabbit or dog that's been stung

by a bee...

But so were those cats!

They were mean and keen and meant no good

Raw badger-meat or maybe cooked

they didn't care...

Under bushes, over fields

racing fast they pursued their meal

eyes gleaming

tails streaming

like sails in the night

they were closing...

Weary, Brock began to slow

the meadow looked barren nowhere to go

but then

'Psst... over here!

A place to hide is what you need

just come on down  – and I'll lead

you somewhere safe and warm...'

Should he go?

That feline screech was drawing near!

No choice –

He ran and nose-first scrambled

under stones and old trailing bramble

following a tail, long and thick

down narrowing tunnel cut out with pick

and axe.

'In here,' said the stranger

I'll bolt the door,

mind your toes on the rough-slate floor

Oh, and the chickens

Don't mind them.'

The tail belonged to a dignified fox

he wore a kerchief and a watch neatly folded in a box

that was gold

and hung at his waist.

'Welcome,' he said

'We're quite safe in here,

so I wonder, would you fancy a beer?

I'm Reynard by the way,

a pleasure to meet you.'

From behind the door came a terrible screech

those pesky cats were doing their best to reach

their supper

'We'll be waiting,' they yowled

'You'll have to come out soon

then we'll roast you up with cabbage and spoon

on the gravy...

Maybe have fox-burger for seconds

or maybe thirdsies!'

But Reynard wasn't bothered, in fact

he smiled at Brock and from a rack

on the wall picked up two big fat hens

'An omelette I think, with mushroom and cheese

washed down with my best ale, to please

the most discerning Badger.'

And he found five very large brown eggs

while the chickens clucked

and squawked, pecking at the floor.

They ate in some style

and when they were done

Reynard said, 'You will stay for a while?

I've room enough here for an army of friends

there are blankets a plenty and I'm happy to lend

you anything you might need?'

'That's very kind,' said Brock

and very relieved

took another honeyed biscuit

He stayed for a day and then for another

but those wily old cats had hidden undercover

in an old wooded dell...

'It's still not safe,' said Reynard

who'd sneaked out to take a peak

'I think it would safest if you stayed another week

or more...'

That night they dined on a vegetable stew

served up with bread and a tasty elderflower brew...

Outside those cats were having some fun

building up fires, cooking rabbit-stuffed buns

(even a badger-shaped pie!)

Then they sang very loudly

and not very well

until even the frogs ran away from the dell

(and who could blame them?)

Every night they'd prowl and yowl

'We want roasted badger!'

Brock and Reynard were mostly content

although after a month fox did relent

and agree a plan was what they needed...

A scheme - a dastardly plot; something to weed

those evil felines from their door...

and more importantly

the ale was running low.

So, while chickens clucked

the two great friends they plotted...

It was a night when frost lay thick and cold

a moonlit sky that seemed to hold

a trillion stars...

Brock looked at Reynard and grinned

His breath was white, his nose it twitched

'Ready?' Brock whispered.

'I've got the plank,' Reynard murmured

and giggled

then wriggled his way under a bush...

Quietly at first the friends made haste

over white grass climbing a gate

leaving a trail of sweet-smelling catnip...

(at least it was for cats!)

It didn't take long...

'They're coming,' said Reynard with a twitch of an ear

'I can smell them,' agreed Brock and I fear

there are seven now at least...'

'Excellent,' said Reynard quite unfazed

'On three then...'

Seven large wild cats yowled and sang

as they spied their prey and began to fan

out – ready to pounce

'I'm having fox for starters,' one of them cried

'Badger for me, or maybe I'll try

fox and badger stew mixed with catnip?'

But the two friends stood back to back

with only a jar, a piece of string

oh... and that plank.

'We take two leaps,' hissed the leading cat,

'keep an eye out for tricks and I want that

catnip...

On two... one two...GO!'

And they leapt

agile as any feline

EXCEPT...

Yowwwl! - SPLASH glug, glug, glug!!!

Seven large cats landed in a pond

of ice covered freezing water!

With splutters and mews they splashed to the shore

'I'd start running,' yelled Brock unless you want some more!'

Crash - went the plank to form a bridge

and he waved a big long fat stick...

(Painted silver, it gleamed like a sword)

So they ran

very fast

quicker than you even though your young

faster than a mouse whose nose has been stung

by an ant...

Far beyond the stream and hill

over meadows and so much further still

lives a badger – Brock

and his best friend Reynard.

On long still nights when the moon rides high

and a trillion stars crowd an ebony sky

You might hear them –

talking of cats and long ago

and laughing ...

or so all the stories go

The End.