The seasons came and went with the countryside's changing air,
Where the vixen and her kit continued to dwell without so much as a care.
Her pup had grown so big, well-nourished, robust and round,
There was scarcely a moment when his big, soft belly didn't meet the ground.
 
The land owner's wheat and grain had nearly doubled in yield,
Thanks to the two robust, cunning foxes that daily patrolled his fields.
With all the mice and rodents that ran from stalk to stalk,
There was more than enough food to satisfy even the hungriest fox.
 
So it was one night when the moon was full,
That the vixen began to feel the season's pull,
And set off to find a new mate among the woods,
As all her instincts dictated she should.
 
"Ah," she cried, "I must leave the down's most accomplished ratter,
But if you keep your wits about ye, you'll only grow the fatter.
For I'm off to the wood for to find a new mate,
And will travel far beyond the far-off orchard gate.
 
A wise Tod would do best to remain here,
With so much to eat and so little to fear."
So the fat, happy dog fox followed her advice,
Keeping his paunch well-lined with mice.
 
The farmer soon held the canny fox in such high esteem,
The rotund vulpine soon was offered daily saucers of cream,
As a sort of thanks from his friend who offered it in such generous measure,
The Tod lapped it up with his ears splayed, nose heavenward, and eyes closed in pleasure.
 
The Tod loved the plump, cozy softness of his big, round belly,
And often waddled amiably about the farm, when he grew full and heavy.
Having grown as fat as he pleased on his daily field and barnyard prowls,
He swore to live peacefully with every other animal, never harming so much as a fowl.
 
So it was that from dog to lamb, they allowed the fox their eventual trust,
The sheep eager to offer the Tod some warm refuge from the chilly gusts,
The dog a place next to his food dish, the horse a ride in the carriage-lorry,
All these the fox enjoyed in exchange for some of his wise, and enjoyably clever stories.
 
On one autumn evening, when the fox was out for a refreshing stroll,
Enjoying the feeling of the wind as it made the wheat stalks sway and roll,
He wandered further away from the farm than was his usual norm,
When his sharp ears caught too late the voice of hounds like an approaching storm.
 
Panic gripped his legs, as he dashed away in fright,
Pressing hard for his home, running at a full break-neck flight.
But it was here that he was betrayed by his too-round middle,
Having grown so fat, his distant lead began to steadily dwindle.
 
Hearing the hounds barking nearer and nearer, he yelped in aid to the sky,
And all the farm's animals turned their heads towards their friend's alarmed cry.
Those who could rushed for him with all due haste, 
Knowing that against the hounds, the fat Tod could not keep pace.
 
The horse was the first to meet him, letting his friend up onto his back,
Then wheeled around and thundered straight for the farm, faster than a whip's crack.
When the fox looked behind them, he saw the hounds were not deterred,
But suddenly, the sound of many approaching paws, wings and hooves could be heard.
 
The nosy hounds soon found themselves in a confusion of feathers, fur and jaws,
And totally bewildered, fled post-haste from the many flying hooves, wings and claws.
The fox watched in complete awe, his heart bursting with delight,
That for him and him alone, all of his comrades had bravely come to fight.
 
The fat, friendly Tod gratefully thanked each of his furry and feathered friends,
As he followed them back, pleased to see familiar faces around him once again.
He settled down on the warm, fresh straw, so appreciative, he thought he just might perhaps weep,
Looked back on it all, smiled cleverly, and laughed himself to sleep.