The Fox Trapper – Letter 3

To my loveliest Eliza,

I’d like to thank you dearly for your beautiful artwork, it has certainly brightened my mood. I tried to use it in order to gain some respect in the camp, but again I received nothing but a violent response. I displayed the picture to one of the younger gentlemen and declared, “Here! Now you see the great power and regalness of Mr. Wilbur Popbottom! I DEMAND RESPECT!” The following moments are all a blur to me now but I awoke with a number of lesions on my face and a difficulty urinating for the next couple of days. The boy may be only 13 years old, but I swear he is built like a ox-bear hybrid beast.

Eliza my dear, I am certainly not obsessed with your brother, Claudio. I certainly respect his hard-working nature, friendliness, great physical strength, firm handshake, shining smile, Sapphire blue eyes, and chiseled jaw line. However, there is a mutual respect there because Claudio truly appreciates my virtuosic harping abilities. My pet mouse merely reminds me a bit of your brother, with his unending curiosity and ability to melt my heart at one glance. Claudio (my mouse) has now learned a new trick in which he screams like a Harpy and bounces off the walls of his cage when he is hungry. I call it “The Banshee Shakes” and it is truly adorable.

Do not tell anyone of this, but I’ve taken to walking into the woods very late at night and searching for the foxes by myself. When I see one I warn it of the impending danger of the humans who are after their fluffy coats. They seem to take notice of my warnings because when I attempt to give them a “truce” handshake, they run away. I suppose they are too concerned with their lives to partake in the formalities, so I do not take offense.

Eliza, I know you are a smart woman so I am yet to be worried, but please heed my advice about indulging in spirits. You know what they say about alcohol: It’s been the cause of death for all of my grandparents, 2 of my sisters and a myriad of aunts and uncles. So, you know, be careful. It could even lead to you telling many an embarrassing story, such as the plum pudding one. You know I still have a limp from that incident.

I miss you Eliza, with all of my heart. Stay strong, for your man shall be home before you know it. Also, if you feel so inclined, tell Claudio to stay strong (which will be easy for him thanks to his bristling muscles), for his dear friend Wilbur will be home before he knows it.

With all my loving heart,


The Fox Trapper – Letter 2


I hope that you know how my heart longs for your presence. I must admit that when you had first left I felt as if I could not go on without you. “How,” I would ask myself, “do you continue without Wilbur? How is it that one can know of Wilbur’s arms, strong and, dare I say, seductive, and yet continue to be parted from both Wilbur and said arms?” It was a challenge I thought would never be capable of completion.

While I am overjoyed to hear from you, I am saddened that your expedition is not going so well. It is a shame that those men you are with have been mocking such a beautiful soul as yours! And why? Simply because you prefer Peas to Patties? Mint to Mutton? Taffy to Tenderloin? This is absurd. When will the world learn that those who eat meat can live side-by-side with those who do not? As a strict vegetarian, I know you had hoped “fox trapping” would involve capturing foxes and rehabilitating them to be functioning domesticated animals. I am full of sorrow that, instead, your journey involves murder.

As for myself, I’ve made some new friends back here in Windsor, all of which are human–although please wish your pet mouse Claudio a fond hello back. I am sure you will have foreseen my displeasure over your choice of name. People in Windsor still talk about your unhealthy obsession with my brother Claudio.

In regards to my new acquaintances, their names are Adeline, Beatrice and Melba. We have started a Knitting Faction which meets every Tuesday at Adeline’s estate. Unlike you and I, these ladies are quite well off. The tea is exquisite, and the laughter, raucous. We often discuss our suitors’ follies; and while you know, Wilbur, that I think of you in the best light a woman could think of a man she loves, I must admit that I shared the Plum Pudding story with them. Beatrice laughed so hard that I believe Adeline may need new upholstery on her Rococo styled love seat.

I know you love my artwork, so I have sent, along with this letter, a drawing of you strangling a fox with your bare hands, and your men groveling by your feet. I hope this will brighten your spirits as well as empower your soul.

By showing this drawing to the men you are with, perhaps you can regain your sense of manliness while not having to hurt any real-life foxes.

As per your instructions, I am still polishing your harp daily. I must admit this task has been made easier when I dip into our secret supply of wine and scotch. I started to dip into the liquor reserves to ease the pain of missing you, and found out that inebriation is quite pleasurable!

When I am under the influence, I try to imagine new ways for us to have greater monetary gain so that we may wed and live in a nice home–the kind “the girls” have. Perhaps I will submit my artwork to the local newspapers and become a cartoonist! I am not sure how good this idea will seem in the morning, when I am of clear mental faculties.

Since the room is beginning to spin, I will end my letter. Please think positively. I know you will make it through the Winter, come back to my white, eggy skin, father a family, and be the best damned harpist the Scottish Symphony Orchestra has ever seen! Excuse the harsh language. I have a case of the giggles.

With warm regards, and all of my love,