The tale of the fox and hens.
Once upon a time a farmer and his hens lived in peace and tranquillity on their quiet little farm.
The farmer took care of the hens and the hens laid plenty of eggs for the farmer to eat.
Both farmer and hens were happy and prosperous, and each took care of the other.
Then one day an inspector from the government came to the farm from the city and told the farmer that it was his job was to take care of foxes as well as hens and that the more foxes there were on his farm the better it would be for the government !
The farmer was told that he could not keep the front gate to his farm bolted shut anymore as it was against law to block any foxes who wanted to enter the farm from having a right of access to his land. And so the farmer was informed that he had to keep the gates to the farm open at all times or else he would be prosecuted and sent to prison.
That same night the gate was left open for the first time and a crafty fox crept into the farm through the open gates and made himself a home in the farmers barn.
In the morning the farmer saw the foxes paw prints in the mud and decided to get rid of the fox before it attacked his hens, but just as he was about to evict the fox from his farm the inspector from the government appeared and said that it was illegal to evict the fox from his land.
If the farmer removed the fox from his land then he would be breaching all manner of laws that were enacted by the government to protect foxes from farmers and so the farmer had to let the fox live in his barn because the government told him too.
The next night the fox bought his vixen and cubs into the farm and they all took up residence together in the barn.
The night after that a loud disturbance could be heard in the darkness and in the morning the farmer went to his chicken coop and saw that one of his hens had been taken by the foxes and eaten. Her fluffy little white feathers were scattered all over the floor of the hen coop and her corpse lay dead outside the barn covered in a dried crust of fresh blood.
The farmer then rang the government inspector and told him what had happened to his hen and asked if he could now get rid of the fox. The government inspector replied that if the farmer tried to remove the fox from his land that the police would be sent to stop him and that he would be prosecuted.
The inspector also said that if the hens made any noise during the night when the fox attacked the coop that they would have to be taken away and killed.
The foxes must not be disturbed, the inspector demanded, and if the hens frighten the foxes then the hens must go !
So the farmer then had to tie elastic bands around the beaks of his hens at night to ensure that they did not make any noise when the foxes attacked, for fear that the cries of alarm and distress from the hens disturb the foxes.
Night after night the foxes raided the hen house and one by one the hens were taken and killed until no more hens remained.
Soon the foxes grew very hungry as they had nothing more to eat and one night as he slept the farmer awoke and saw the foxes surrounding his bed, their eyes glittering with hunger in the darkness were staring at him with a strange longing look as they licked their lips.
In the morning the farmer saw that the foxes had left the barn and had taken up residence in his own house, in the room next to his !
The farmer then remembered what had happened to the farm next door which had also been invaded by foxes. The old farmer had been found in his bed just a pile of old gnawed bones. The farmer grew very afraid and realised that perhaps he was next on the foxes menu !
The farmer loaded his shotgun and was about to remove them from his house when the police arrived on his doorstep with a warrant signed by a magistrate, “ Sir, we are here to take away your shotgun and ammunition as we have reason to believe that you intend to use your guns to remove foxes from your home”, and they took away his shotgun and left.
That night the farmer lay awake in the darkness of his room and heard the foxes prowling around his bed, their claws scratching at the bedpost and pulling at the sheets.
In the morning he awoke and packed his bags and fled the farm.
As he walked down the lane with tears in his eyes leaving his farm for the very last time he could hear the howl of the foxes as they sat on the roof of his abandoned farmhouse and called out to their brethren to come to the farm and live with them.
From out of the hedgerows, the woods, the gardens and fields came hundreds more foxes and each were headed to his farm, a veritable flood of foxes all howling with joy that they had taken control of another farm.
When the farmer came to the city he looked around him and saw that the city was also full of foxes.
And then he came to the home of the government inspector and saw that as he had been so successful in increasing the number of foxes he had been able to buy a lovely house with a massive set of gates that were locked.
And guess what - there were no foxes in the inspectors house, nor in his neighbours house. In fact not a single fox lived in the same street as the government inspector.
Only then did the farmer realise that what profit’s the government and the inspectors, impoverishes and threatens the people.