Agatha Armitage: why the fox loves Thursdays

Featuring a delectable dish...

Dear Friend,

It is still Thursday, and I have spent the entire day trying to understand why Thursdays are so important.

I went to see my next-door neighbour first (the one who doesn’t like me). The problem with visiting people who don’t like you is that it always comes with a risk of injury. This particular day, my neighbour was lamenting the fact that all but one of her turnips had been eaten by the muntjacs. It’s no surprise really that she threw the turnip at my head. Luckily for me, it missed me by a centimetre, and unluckily for her, it was caught in the mouth of my muntjac-friend. I did try again to ask her why Thursdays were so important after that, but I forwent my missions when she started getting out the bricks…

Instead, I asked the muntjacs, who seem to think it’s something to do with Frank Sinatra. Apparently there are matinee performances of the Frank Sinatra musical on Thursdays (they’ve been thinking about buying tickets and don’t like to drive at night). I don’t think this can be it though, because foxes aren’t allowed in theatres (foxes, you see, have a tendency to climb up on stage and start singing and dancing if they go to the theatre. This is quite disruptive for the performers, though I personally think it usually adds to the excitement).

Finally, I asked my old companion (the one I met at the sandcastling competition). I gave her a call on my trusted conch shell but she didn’t pick up. She must not have heard it ringing…

This meant that I just have to sit tight and wait to see why Thursday is so important… I just hope the fox doesn’t get too mad and leave when he realises I have forgotten. He seems to be getting more and more excited as the day progresses… He’s just finished his fur-care routine and he seems more elated than I had seen him in months. He is currently padding around the house smiling broadly and singing “my, oh my, I’m so excited it’s Thursday” in a screechy singsong voice.

I shall write soon with an update, dear friend — and I do hope it is a positive one…

I’m writing this a little later, dear friend (not that you’ll know this… letters, after all, are not very good at telling the time). We’ve just eaten dinner, and all of my questions were answered at tea time when Andrea the Lasagne Chef produced a putrid-smelling dish from the oven. The horrible, meaty smell stunk up the whole cottage.

“Cat food lasagne!” she declared with a grin. “The fox’s favourite!”

There were empty (stolen) cans of catfood on the kitchen sides — and the dish was so humongous that it had been separated into twelve separate baking dishes.

The fox demolished his plate in seconds, getting food stuck in his freshly groomed coat.

Since the elephant and I are vegetarian, we did not join him. Instead, the fox and Andrea ate the entire thing (Andrea has developed a love for cat food in her time at Jellyfish cottage, largely owing to the fox’s cat food cartel). The elephant and I instead shared a carton of gazpatcho, topped with gingernut biscuits.

I shall send you the recipe soon, dear friend - but, for now, I am all out of paper!

Your friend,

Agatha