Once upon a time, deep in a wild green forest, there lived a very clever fox named Foxster. Foxster was proud of a great many things — his sharp teeth, his quick paws, his bright eyes. But what he loved best of all was his magnificent, bushy red tail. He brushed it every morning and fluffed it out every night before he slept.

One dark evening, while Foxster was creeping round a farmer’s chicken coop in search of a midnight snack, he stepped on something hard.

SNAP!

A heavy metal trap clamped shut on the very end of his beautiful tail.

Foxster gasped. He pulled, and he pulled, and the trap would not budge. And then he heard the farmer’s dogs, barking somewhere in the dark and getting closer with every second.

“Woof! Woof! WOOF!”

Knowing he had to get away that very instant, Foxster gave one last desperate tug. YANK! He broke free and shot into the bushes just in time.

But when he looked back, his heart sank. His beautiful bushy tail was still in the trap.

He was tailless.

The Secret Plan

For a long while, Foxster kept well away from all the other foxes. He lived a lonely life in the deepest shadows of the wood, slipping about behind bushes and rocks. He knew exactly what would happen if he went back to his pack. They would point their paws at him, and make jokes, and laugh behind his back.

But living all alone was hard, and Foxster grew very lonely indeed. Then one rainy afternoon, as he was staring gloomily at his funny blunt backside, a sneaky plan arrived in his clever brain.

“If I can’t have my tail back,” Foxster whispered, with a sly grin, “then I shall simply have to make everybody else lose theirs as well.”

He sent a message through the forest at once, calling a grand meeting of the whole fox tribe. He had a secret of great importance to share, he said — a secret that would save all their lives.

The Grand Speech

The next morning, dozens of foxes gathered in a large sunny clearing. They sat in a great circle, and their long beautiful tails twitched with curiosity.

Foxster backed himself very carefully up against a large hollow tree trunk, so that nobody could see his rear end. Then he climbed onto a high rock, cleared his throat, and began.

“My dear friends!” he shouted, waving his front paws in the air. “I have spent many weeks thinking about the dangers facing our tribe. And I have realised that our greatest enemy is not the farmer. It is not the hound. It is… our tails!”

The foxes gasped, and a whisper ran round the circle.

“Think about it!” Foxster went on, pointing a paw at a young fox in the front row. “Only last month, poor Barnaby was very nearly caught by the hounds because his long tail got tangled in a thorn hedge. And what about Daisy? She could not run fast enough to escape the hunter, because the weight of all that fur slowed her down.”

He leaned forward and looked very serious indeed.

“Besides, it is a well-known fact that humans only hunt us because they want our beautiful tails to hang upon their walls. Our tails are dangerous. They are heavy. They are completely useless. And so, as your wise friend, I advise every single one of you to cut your tail off at once, if you value your life and your safety!”

The Big Reveal

When Foxster had finished, he puffed out his chest and waited for the cheering.

Instead, a wise old fox with silver fur around his muzzle rose slowly to his feet at the back of the crowd. He was smiling, and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Master Foxster,” said the old fox calmly, and his voice carried right across the clearing. “That was a very dramatic speech. But before we all go chopping off our beautiful tails, would you do us one small favour? Step away from that tree trunk, and turn around for just a moment — and then, I think, we shall have our answer.”

Foxster’s ears turned bright red.

He knew he was caught.

Slowly, very reluctantly, he took two steps away from the tree and turned his back to the crowd.

For a second the clearing was completely silent as every fox stared at his funny, blunt, tailless behind.

Then, all at once, there arose such a storm of jeering and giggling and hooting laughter that the birds went up out of the trees in fright.

“Look at him!” squeaked one fox, rolling on the grass. “He doesn’t want to save our lives at all — he just wants us to look as silly as he does!”

Foxster saw at once that it was no use trying any longer. Blushing from his nose to his paws, the poor tailless fox scurried away into the deep woods, and left the rest of them to wag their long beautiful tails in peace.

The Moral of the Story: Do not take advice from someone who only wants to drag you down to their own level. When people have a problem, or have made a mistake, they sometimes try to talk you into the same trouble so that they do not feel left out. Always think for yourself.