A FOX CALLED HERBERT

A rabbit plays dress-up.

In a friendly world of anthropomorphic animals, cats and porcupines play hopscotch, owls play chase, and Herbert, a yellow rabbit, plays fox. He “loved foxes so much, he made himself a pair of red ears,” but his mother tells him that “rabbit ears aren’t short and pointy.” His other attempts at passing himself off as a fox are met with similar disagreement—and scoldings—as when he tries to paint himself red (and makes quite a mess) and cuts a red tail out of his mother’s dress. It isn’t until Herbert sneaks out in full fox regalia and is seen playing with real foxes (apparently predator-prey relationships are erased in this world) by his mother and little sister that his mother relents: “I AM A FOX!” he insists, and his mother finally responds with, “You are my fox.” Dress-up and dramatic play are common among children, and read as a lighthearted story about letting children play as they want to, this is anodyne and pleasant. Readers tempted to see or use this as a way to open up conversations about self-identity may wish to consider instead stories that address the realities of complex human communities head-on.

A familiar story competently told.