One cold morning on the mountain, a fox named Flynn woke up.
He stretched.
He yawned.
He went to flick his big, beautiful, bushy tail —
And it wasn’t there.
Flynn spun around.
No tail.
He looked behind the rock. No tail.
He looked under the leaves. No tail.
He looked in his own bed four times.
Still no tail.
“I’ve lost my tail,” said Flynn.
This was, he felt, quite a big problem. 🦊
🏔️ Retracing the Day
Flynn tried to remember everything he had done yesterday.
He had gone to the stream for a drink.
He trotted to the stream. He looked in the water. He looked under the pebbles.
No tail.
He had chased a leaf down the hill.
He ran down the hill. He found the leaf. He gave it a suspicious look.
No tail.
He had visited the old pine tree to scratch his back.
He went to the old pine tree and —
There it was.
His tail. Caught on a branch. Wagging gently in the breeze as if it had been waiting for him all along.
Wag. Wag. Wag. 🦊
💛 Daniel Helps Him Look
Daniel had been following Flynn from a safe distance, very curious, wondering what on earth a fox was looking for.
When Flynn found his tail and grabbed it and trotted off with his nose in the air as if nothing had happened —
Daniel laughed so hard a bird flew off a branch nearby.
“He lost his TAIL,” Daniel said. “And he found it again!”
🌲 Back Where He Belonged
Flynn reattached his tail — which is a private fox business and we won’t discuss the details — and swished it importantly.
“I knew where it was all along,” Flynn told a rabbit who was watching.
The rabbit did not believe him.
But Flynn didn’t mind.
He had his tail back.
It was wagging.
The mountain was crisp and cold and beautiful.
And he had absolutely not spent all morning panicking.
Absolutely not.
Swish. 🦊