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The Ball Thief
Dawn breaks with an orange glow, igniting the fur on the fox’s brush as it pads silently through the grass. No breeze disturbs the sultry air, and the fox leaves no trail in the dry summer grass.
He knows this garden well, frequently using it as a corridor between his den and the fertile rabbit hunting grounds beyond. But something is different today; the garden isn’t empty.
The young fox spies an object, round and orange abandoned on the lawn. He sniffs cautiously. It doesn’t move. He pats it lightly with a paw, and the ball rolls silently back and forth.
He sniffs again and, opening his jaws wide to expose needle-like teeth, bites down hard. The ball squeaks and wheezes loudly and repeatedly as the fox exercises his strong jaws on the tough rubber.
A curtain twitches above, and a face appears at the window bleary-eyed. The watcher beams, enjoying the fox's obvious delight in finding the ball, but then frowns and taps the window angrily to distract the fox from its next target - a child’s watering can.
A few nips and a pat confirm that the watering can is not as satisfying as the ball, and the fox moves on. A smaller yellow ball catches his eye. It’s much softer and easier to carry than the watering can or the much larger orange ball.
Play at an end, the fox scoops up the ball and heads back to his den with a new squishy yellow prize. He’ll return for the orange ball tomorrow, its squeakiness too tempting to resist.
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