One kind of fox is alive, and has four legs and a head and a tail

Hmm...what to write about now, thinks the fox, after being way too long at her another home, which is now filled with beer, naked women and potatoes, but however much she thinks about everything, like why her beloved trousers are now officially dead and why are there animals like olms, she only writes that Paul Potts sings at the Finlandia Hall on June.