Underwhelmed

I continue to wonder if anyone is reading any of this; there is little evidence of it. But anyway here's today's animal, starting of course with 'F'':

In the old days his life was a hard’un,
but now the Fox gets in the garden,
where he generally craps
after eating the scraps,
without saying ‘Thank you’ or ‘Pardon.’

A fine fox has been visiting my sister's garden here in a small town in England. He usually appears about
coffee-time, (in England that's around 11 a.m.), and patrols the garden warily but confidently, looking for any
scraps we may have left out for him. We sometimes do leave out a few left-overs, but never enough for
him to become dependent on them; just a snack. He has evidently decided that people - at least the people
around here - are not a threat. I say 'He' and 'Him', though I don't know enough about foxes to be sure of
that - I just have an impression of a lone young male, the equivalent in human terms of a teenager. He looks
healthy, with the traditional bushy tail; many urban foxes look mangy, probably because they have become
too used to eating from dustbins full of MacDonald's. If that's what it does to foxes, imagine what it does
to humans.
 Does anyone remember Basil Brush? Many years ago I worked with Basil Brush onstage at the New
Theatre Oxford.