Dec 09

Sir Foxley-Fox’s Christmas story 2017

SIR FOXLEY-FOX’s Christmas 2017


The Fox News weather forecast for December 2017 showed very low temperatures below freezing throughout the month with heavy snowfalls.

The Foxwood Council, led, if you remember by none other than Sir Foxley-Fox himself, decided with their usual forward thinking that it would be a good idea to have a downhill ski race on Christmas Day with all animals and humans competing but those without skis would be allowed to use other forms of transport!

Nurse Tracey and Dr. Silvia at the Foxwood Medical Centre groaned at the news, remembering the events of 2016 and imagining another Christmas Day spent repairing bumps and bruises and even broken bones.

Although Olly Octopus was very keen to try his legs at skiing, the Council decided that with eight legs it would be almost impossible to keep them all going in a straight line, with the inevitable result that there would be multiple breaks of skis and legs, so he was appointed as the official photographer as he would be able to take eight photos at the same time!

Sydney Spider fell into the same category as Olly Octopus, but he came up with the BRILLIANT idea of paragliding down the hill on his web, which caused allegations of corruption in the Council as one of the council members was a spider, but was approved because the general idea was felt to be so unique.

Sir Foxley-Fox, who rather fancied himself as a downhill racer looked out and cleaned and waxed his old wooden skis inherited from Wing Commander Fox in World War 1 and much to the amusement of the cubs and Lady Foxley Fox, tried on a very old pair of chequered plus fours which promptly tore all the way across his bottom!

Thumper the cat decided to attempt the downhill run on a Cat Mat, the fox cubs Buster, Squabbler, Squealer and Felicity designed a special Fox Box with a hole at the front so they could see where they were going and a hole at the back for steering with their bushy tails and Mr.and Mrs.Ponsonby-Snodgrass promptly sent their son Eustace off to a most expensive ski school in Switzerland for one week’s expert tuition!

Foxwood hill is a fairly gently sloping hill apart from near the bottom, where there is a sheer drop of some six metres, so the Council had wisely staked out the course so as to skirt round this drop in order to follow the more gentle route to the finishing line.

Sir Foxley-Fox had suggested that bales of hay be placed in front of the drop, but this idea was rejected because of budget cuts.

The wise old owl, who had once again become a snowy owl during the day time because of the heavy snowfall, had decided to fly over the course so that he would have a fine aerial view of events and an enterprising young Fox News reporter had asked the owl if he could strap a webcam to his tummy so that the downhill race could be shown on the big screen at the finish line and throughout Foxwood and the world. The owl had decided not to put on skis – come on, be sensible, whoever heard of a bird with skis on??

After some negotiation, it was agreed that the reporter would supply huge numbers of mince pies and mince flies for sandwiches for those animals who preferred the latter delicacy.

So, Christmas Day dawned under a blue but cold sky with massive snowdrifts everywhere and all the animals and humans lined up at the start. There was a tortoise who decided to go down on his back, a hedgehog with skis on all four of his little paws, several foxes as well as our foxcubs in a box, sydney spider doing his paragliding thing, a very slim and fit looking squirrel on skis and hundreds of other woodland animals on skis, trays and plastic bags, what a colourful sight it was – even PC Fuzzy Fox was there on a police sledge with flashing blue light !

Because he shouted louder than anyone else Mr. Ponsonby – Snodgrass was given the job of starting the race, which turned out to be a mistake, because a few seconds before the start, Eustace Ponsonby-Snodgrass elbowed and shoved his way through the pack of animals sending many flying flat on their backs, until, just as he reached the front his father shouted 3-2-1-START – a clear example of bad sportsmanship.

All the animals, led by Lady Foxley-Fox shouted excitedly at the finish line as the downhill racers sped on their way, watched in glorious colour on the big screen TV.

Just after the halfway stage, Sir Foxley-Fox was in the lead, with the skiing squirrel in second place, Eustace Ponsonby Snodgrass, with his brand new racing skis shining blue and silver against the white snow was in third place, with the four fox cubs in a box in fourth position.

But then three things happened which were to change the whole race.

As they approached the clearly marked turn to avoid the sheer drop, the two leading skiers turned elegantly to the left, but Eustace Ponsonby- Snodgrass, whether through bravado or sheer lack of control hurtled straight on and over the drop. Like Eddie the Eagle, he soared majestically through the air for a few seconds, with the crowd ooing and aahing at his impressive display, but gravity eventually took its toll and as he started his descent he lost his balance, turned  over and over in the air and eventually landed headfirst in a massive snowdrift to the right of the course, just a few metres short of the finishing line. His skis and bottom were the only things that could be seen of Eustace, so deeply was he stuck in the snowdrift.

The foxcubs in a box were unable to veer off to the left as their tails simply did not have enough grip and they, too sailed majestically into the air and as the box landed, it broke open and the four foxcubs went tumbling and rolling down the hill, knocking both Sir Foxley-Fox and the skiing squirrel off their skis, so that all four cubs crossed the finishing line at the same time and were declared the undisputed winners.

The third thing to happen was that, further up the course, the hedgehog had unfortunately not noticed a snow covered branch sticking out, with the result that all four of his skis were torn off him and very sensibly he curled up into a spiky ball and rolled at an ever increasing speed down the hill, to take off over the sheer drop and end up with his spikes firmly stuck into Eustace Ponsonby-Snodgrasses’ large bottom. As he was buried in a snowdrift, it was fortunate that nobody was able to hear Eustace’s screams. Or maybe it was unfortunate for him, as everyone forgot about him and clapped and cheered as all the animals crossed the finishing line in one way or another, with no injuries.

Eventually Mrs. Ponsonby-Snodgrass rushed over the her darling boy but failed miserably in her attempts to pull him out, so yet again, Farmer Giles was able to attach a rope to Eustace’s legs and with the massive traction from the mighty Trelleborg Super Tyres on his tractor was able to pull out a very bedraggled Eustace, who, after his behaviour at the start of the race, received no sympathy at all!

All the animals then enjoyed their mince pies, mince flies sandwiches and warm drinks and it was generally agreed that this was the best Christmas ever.


Sir Foxley-Fox ( with a little help from co-author Andrew Lauder.)


The End


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