Jemima Puddle-Duck was a very particular duck. She loved waddling through the farmyard, but more than anything, she dreamed of hatching her own eggs, just like a proper mother duck. However, the barnyard hens always told her, “Your eggs aren’t safe here, Jemima. Leave the hatching to us!” Jemima didn’t like this one bit. She wanted her own cozy, quiet nest, far away from all the clucking and fussing.

One sunny morning, Jemima decided to take matters into her own wings. She flapped off into the woods, her feathers gleaming in the sunlight, searching for the perfect place to lay her eggs. As she waddled through a clearing, she met a charming, bushy-tailed gentleman in a smart jacket. It was a fox. “Good morning, madam,” he said with a polite bow. “What brings a lovely duck like you to my woods?”

“Oh, I’m looking for a nice, quiet place to lay my eggs,” Jemima replied. She explained her troubles with the hens back at the farmyard. The fox’s eyes gleamed, but he smiled sweetly and said, “Why, my dear, you’ve come to the right place! I have a lovely little shed not far from here. It’s quiet, cozy, and perfect for a hardworking duck like yourself. Let me show you!”

Jemima clapped her wings happily. “How kind of you! I’d love to see it.” So, off they went, with the fox leading the way through the winding paths of the woods. True to his word, the fox brought Jemima to a little shed tucked away in the trees. Inside, there was a soft pile of straw, just right for a nest. Jemima was thrilled. “Thank you so much!” she quacked. “I’ll start laying my eggs right away.”

“Take your time, my dear,” the fox said with a toothy grin. “I’ll bring you some herbs to make your nest even cozier. You just settle in.” Jemima didn’t think twice. She plopped down on the straw and got to work. Over the next few days, she laid a beautiful clutch of eggs and waited patiently for the fox to return with his promised herbs.

Meanwhile, back at the farmyard, the farmer’s dog, Kep, noticed that Jemima was missing. “That duck’s always getting herself into trouble,” he muttered. With a wag of his tail, he set off to find her. It didn’t take long for his sharp nose to pick up her trail.

When Kep arrived at the shed, he peeked through the window and saw Jemima sitting proudly on her nest. But he also spotted something suspicious—pots, pans, and a cookbook lying in the corner. That sneaky fox wasn’t planning a duck-friendly dinner; he was planning to make Jemima the dinner! Kep barked loudly, startling the fox, who had just returned with a sack and a mischievous look in his eye.

“Run, Jemima!” barked Kep. Jemima didn’t understand at first, but when the fox dropped his sack and lunged toward her, she realized the truth. With a loud flap of her wings, she flew out the window just as Kep charged in and chased the fox far, far away. The fox might have been clever, but Kep was braver.

Jemima returned to the farmyard, flustered but safe. The hens clucked and fussed over her, but this time, they let her keep her eggs in the barn. “Maybe the hens aren’t so bad after all,” Jemima thought as she settled onto her nest.

And from that day on, Jemima learned to listen to her friends—especially the ones with wagging tails and floppy ears.