Fox in Socks

Let me start off by apologizing. In my previous blog I refered to the Fox in Sox. There is no Fox in Sox. His name is Fox in Socks. I can not believe that I did such a thing. Must be baseball season. Sorry.

I wonder why the Chicago and Boston baseball teams wear sox whereas everyone else, including most foxes wear socks. Someday I will try to find out.

Chicks with bricks and blocks and clocks come.

With the intention of joining forces with Mr. Fox against Tweedle Beetles, I have been making phone calls all day. I did not have much luck until I was finally able to track down Slow Joe Crow who knew how to contact Luke Luck and his duck. Incidentally, they were not licking lakes. When I called, Luke and his duck were chewing some new blue gooey goo. Luke tells me that the goo tasted somewhat gluey. It was his first time chewing goo. The duck had done it before with his friend Goo-Goose (not to be confused with a Minnesota Grey Goose .. Or is it gray duck?) and had finally convinced Luke to try it. Water foul like gluey goo. Apparently Luke does not really care for it. I told him to try a Venti Vanilla Non-fat Latte. Maybe he'll like that better.

So, Mr Luck would not give me Fox in Sock's phone number, but he did give me a secret email address with a cryptic code phrase that Fox will recognize as a request for correspondence. It is all much more clandestine than I am used to. What have I gotten myself into?

At the moment I am waiting for the fox to get back to me.

I am sure the cautious and secretive nature of this whole experience has something to do with the Tweedle Beetles.