a day or so to live anyway?”
“Good point,” replied the fox as one of the items tossed from the box rolled towards the tortoise.
“That’s for you,” uttered the fox, as a big green ball twice Ed’s size rattled against his protective shell, forcing him instinctually to withdraw completely from sight.
“Great,” he said, as he peered out from his shell, his head brushing the outside of the plastic wrapped sphere. He could see the label clearly: ‘Iceberg lettuce.’
“Lovely - did you get dressing?” said Ed, as Sam nudged the lettuce down into the fox hole, sending it rolling down the opening like a cannon ball in a barrel.
“No, it was a quick in and out job,” replied Sam as he went back to the box to retrieve another object.
“This is for me,” he said, as he clasped his teeth around what looked like some sort of plastic pot.
“What’s that?” asked Ed as the fox tossed the item into the hole behind the lettuce, knocking it from where it had got stuck and down all the way into the depths of the lair.
“Chicken pate, lovely stuff. Saves me killing a chicken, squirrel or anything like that. I try to avoid killing if I can. I’m upset enough about having to leave the plastic wrappers down here. Not biodegradable at all.”
Sam headed back towards the box.
“Is there more as well? How on earth did you manage all this, and the box as well?”
“You need to be wily if you become a fox. Foxy schemes, cunning and crafty; I’ll tell you about it when we get inside. Go on, you first.”
The fox grabbed the final item from near the box before nudging it into the undergrowth with his snout. Ed meanwhile headed down the hole, nudging the chicken pate pot forwards with his head as he did so. It ended up beside the lettuce as he made his way into the chamber, followed by Sam with a double size Mars bar in his mouth.
“A Mars bar? Are you kidding me? How the hell did you manage all this? Do you have your visa card with you or something?”
Sam tossed the unopened chocolate bar next to the chicken pate and nudged the lettuce over towards Ed.
“Thanks, but how am I going to open this?” he bemoaned as the round green globe finally rested beside him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that for you. This will all last us until tomorrow. You can’t have any chocolate though. It’ll make you sick.”
“Marvellous. You’re my doctor now as well I suppose. It just so happens I don’t particularly like chocolate so it’s not an issue.”
With this the fox moved over and started snarling and gnawing as his shiny, white teeth tried to rip open the plastic wrapping of the lettuce.
“Well, how on earth did you manage it? I can’t imagine you waltzed into the shop and filled up the box.”
“You’re absolutely right. Truth is I went round the back and rummaged through all the stuff that had been thrown out. There’s some good stuff in there normally, any shop, any town, any country. A lot of waste.”
“Good idea! You’re too clever.”
“Whatever! Anyway, the most difficult thing is nuzzling the box all the way back without being seen.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be. This is better than flowers for me though. I am grateful, thanks,” said Ed, as the fox clasped the outside of the lettuce between his teeth and tossed it from left to right, unravelling the plastic and revealing the tortoise-friendly, tasty meal.
“I’ll need to rip it apart for you. Otherwise you might have a bit of trouble eating it. Don’t worry about catching anything from me. You’ll be dead in a day or two anyway.”
“Ever the optimist,” replied Ed ironically as Sam chomped, dissected and sliced the lettuce with his razor sharp teeth into smaller and smaller pieces for Ed.
“I might as well do the whole thing and then that saves me a job tomorrow,” he gasped, as he gathered the pile of cut lettuce next to Ed in the corner.
“Thanks. This smells really good. I don’t think I ever ate lettuce when
“Good point,” replied the fox as one of the items tossed from the box rolled towards the tortoise.
“That’s for you,” uttered the fox, as a big green ball twice Ed’s size rattled against his protective shell, forcing him instinctually to withdraw completely from sight.
“Great,” he said, as he peered out from his shell, his head brushing the outside of the plastic wrapped sphere. He could see the label clearly: ‘Iceberg lettuce.’
“Lovely - did you get dressing?” said Ed, as Sam nudged the lettuce down into the fox hole, sending it rolling down the opening like a cannon ball in a barrel.
“No, it was a quick in and out job,” replied Sam as he went back to the box to retrieve another object.
“This is for me,” he said, as he clasped his teeth around what looked like some sort of plastic pot.
“What’s that?” asked Ed as the fox tossed the item into the hole behind the lettuce, knocking it from where it had got stuck and down all the way into the depths of the lair.
“Chicken pate, lovely stuff. Saves me killing a chicken, squirrel or anything like that. I try to avoid killing if I can. I’m upset enough about having to leave the plastic wrappers down here. Not biodegradable at all.”
Sam headed back towards the box.
“Is there more as well? How on earth did you manage all this, and the box as well?”
“You need to be wily if you become a fox. Foxy schemes, cunning and crafty; I’ll tell you about it when we get inside. Go on, you first.”
The fox grabbed the final item from near the box before nudging it into the undergrowth with his snout. Ed meanwhile headed down the hole, nudging the chicken pate pot forwards with his head as he did so. It ended up beside the lettuce as he made his way into the chamber, followed by Sam with a double size Mars bar in his mouth.
“A Mars bar? Are you kidding me? How the hell did you manage all this? Do you have your visa card with you or something?”
Sam tossed the unopened chocolate bar next to the chicken pate and nudged the lettuce over towards Ed.
“Thanks, but how am I going to open this?” he bemoaned as the round green globe finally rested beside him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that for you. This will all last us until tomorrow. You can’t have any chocolate though. It’ll make you sick.”
“Marvellous. You’re my doctor now as well I suppose. It just so happens I don’t particularly like chocolate so it’s not an issue.”
With this the fox moved over and started snarling and gnawing as his shiny, white teeth tried to rip open the plastic wrapping of the lettuce.
“Well, how on earth did you manage it? I can’t imagine you waltzed into the shop and filled up the box.”
“You’re absolutely right. Truth is I went round the back and rummaged through all the stuff that had been thrown out. There’s some good stuff in there normally, any shop, any town, any country. A lot of waste.”
“Good idea! You’re too clever.”
“Whatever! Anyway, the most difficult thing is nuzzling the box all the way back without being seen.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be. This is better than flowers for me though. I am grateful, thanks,” said Ed, as the fox clasped the outside of the lettuce between his teeth and tossed it from left to right, unravelling the plastic and revealing the tortoise-friendly, tasty meal.
“I’ll need to rip it apart for you. Otherwise you might have a bit of trouble eating it. Don’t worry about catching anything from me. You’ll be dead in a day or two anyway.”
“Ever the optimist,” replied Ed ironically as Sam chomped, dissected and sliced the lettuce with his razor sharp teeth into smaller and smaller pieces for Ed.
“I might as well do the whole thing and then that saves me a job tomorrow,” he gasped, as he gathered the pile of cut lettuce next to Ed in the corner.
“Thanks. This smells really good. I don’t think I ever ate lettuce when
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