The Diary of Fox Micky

My name is Foxy Mikki—I’m the first dog in the world who can write. Of course, my paw fingers don’t curl, but I bite down on a pencil— and I write. At first, the letters looked like squashed earthworms. But foxes are much more diligent than girls. Now I write no worse than Zina. Zina is my owner. I love her very much. What a wonderful girl!

Oh, what I saw in my dream! Like I was the director of a doggy gymnasium. The dogs sit by classes and learn “the history of famous dogs,” “rules of good dog behavior,” “how to eat a brain bone,” and other things suitable for them. And what if there were a resort for foxes? Foxy-bad! Wouldn’t that be great—opening a dog cinema there… dog races, a dog roulette, a dog sanatorium for gouty bulldogs… Why, why don’t they do anything for us? Wooo! Grr! My flea bit me again! I hate fleas. I-despi-se. They bite me all day long, like I’m sugar… Woof-woof-woof! A dog poet, tamer of dugs and bulldogs, the universal child’s friend—wonderful and marvelous Foxy Mikki.