Charles Dickens had influenced many people over the generation to create their own unique stories on account of his majestic storytelling. Over the years they had been adapted by television and films - especially through revisions. Such as two films being done in the same year being Scrooged and Disney's Oliver & Company - it's that very topic which brings this story into life; even today such young children like Oliver Twist still suffer and this is my own take on what it may have been in a modern day through the experiences of young Oliver.

The meadow was cruelly dull in the sky and promising storm to shower upon the pregnant young vixen underneath it. There she stood against a tree for support to write something upon it. She reflected, through each word, the happy times before tragedy snuck up on everything. She knew her time was short, not that her father would care but she hated to think what her little brother might be thinking at this moment, a foolish young fox growing a bastard inside her womb.

"HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO THIS FAMILY?!" her father stormed.
"But I got rid of him now, Father!" the vixen sobbed.
"YOU STILL GROW A BASTARD INSIDE OF YOUR STOMACH REGARDLESS OF YOUR BREAK-UP!" he thundered throwing his study chair aside. "THE SHAME YOU INFLICTED UPON ME! AND KEVIN FOR THAT MATTER"
"Boys are tricky creatures," winced the vixen. "The want only one thing form you and I fell victimised to that."
"NICHOLAS PIBERIUS WILDE?! TRICKY?! HOW DARE YOU! HE IS ONE OF THE MOST CHARMING YOUNG FOXES I EVER ENCOUNTERED! HE TOLD ME EVERYTHING; YOU'RE DESIRE TO TRY A NIGHT AND LOOK WHERE IT'S LEAD YOU! I OFF COURSE HAD TO SEND HIM AWAY FOR OUR OWN GOOD! IT'S LIKE I LOST A SON! BUT NOT LIKE HOW I SHALL LOSE A DAUGHTER!"
The vixen gasped.
"No! Father, please! You cannot disown me! How will the child live?"
"YOU MAY MAKE DO IN SOME ORPHANAGE! I HEAR THERE IS A GOOD ONE OUTSIDE THE CITY, MUDWAY'S BY NAME! YOU WILL STAY THERE AND RAISE YOUR BABY! YOU JUST STAY AWAY FROM THIS HOUSEHOLD!"
He sat down to control himself and looked at the picture on his desk; his beautiful bride, died giving birth to his son, formerly breeding his daughter who was to raise a child to his unmarried daughter.
He pulled out a drawer from under the desk and gave his daughter some dollars, enough for a month for her to live on.
"GET OUT!" he roared. "MY OFFICE! MY HOUSE! OUT! DON'T EVEN BOTHER SAYING GOODBYE TO KEVIN! I GRIEVE TO THINK OF THIS SHAME!"

The vixen shuddered at this Hell of a final scene with her father. Never did she get a chance to say goodbye to Kevin. And the scene she made in front of Nick was a punishment to live with as a memory.
The vixen struggled on and on through the violent rain and thunder, agreeing with her for the mistake she made letting that beautiful fox go. Her father would probably keep her and her older brother would probably still be able to adapt with the unmarried relationship. The baby she was carrying inside her made her journey all the harder but it was to come to life tonight and it will come to life tonight.
The vixen staggered through the blackness, the rain battering her hard as though God was as angry as her father for what she had done with that ... that ... fox. She wanted to pray for forgiveness but the baby was ready for life and was hurting her too much to get on her knees. She struggled on until she finally came to a wide, wide meadow and in the distance was a back building. She had no idea what it was but she needed shelter for the birth she was soon to give. She walked past a sign she hardly noticed, lightening shone on the inscription:

Mudway's Orphanage: Home for Unwanted, Savage Predators

The vixen finally came to the great front doors and knocked, but found herself sinking to the ground and lying on her back, clutching her belly containing the cub.
The door was opened by a plump, scruffy beaver wearing a white bun hat and a reddish brown dress. She looked down at the struggling vixen in shock.
"Dear Lord!" she cried. "Get security! Get her to the infirmary!"

WHIP!
CRACK!
The naked, muzzled lion cub whimpered in agony as a streak of blood streamed down his back.
Mr. Mudway, an enormously fat hippo in a cream suit sat down after his duty was completed and panted with exhaustion but anger in still cemented on his face.
"Shall I ever catch you whisking meat again, you whiskers will be yanked clean off and I will hang you by your tail all the year around!"
The lion nodded with huge tears.
"NOW GET OUT!"
He kicked the lion cub out and slammed the door.
He sat back down when the door knocked again. He got his whip ready, went to the door, opened and revealed to whip to -
"Oh, erm, Mrs. Roundler, dear," he chuckled sheepishly. "Just an amateur approach to the rule breakers lest they came to claim the wrath from God as hippopotamus."
"Yes," said the female hippo sardonically as she walked in, holding her red skirt so not to trip. "Well my advice to you, Mr. Mudway is that you make certain it is an orphan and not a member to staff of the orphanage. New this one, I'm guessing."
"Stole some meat - the fat at least - off my plate when I was obvious to your non-appearance. Every I go you are there, Mrs. Roundler."
Mrs. Roundler blushed.
"Without your benefits, Mr. Mudway, there would be no way to control these savage orphans. Thin mushroom soup always keeps them under control."
"Indeed, ma-am, indeed," chuckled the he-hippo pompously. "Back then, it would be gruel which I consider too old-fashioned. Mushroom soup keeps them strong enough."
The door knocked violently.
"That's the size of an orphan as it come from the bottom of the door," remarked Mrs. Roundler.
Mr. Mudway got up with his whip, open the door to be greeted with -
"LABOUR! SHE'S IN LABOUR!"
The shock made Mr. Mudway jump back in fright only for the whip to have him in the face.
"What's this, Nurse Buckworth?" demanded Mrs. Roundler ignoring Mr. Mudway who was dancing about clutching his whipped face.
"Vixen, ma-am!" cried the beaver. "Labour! Walked far! Soon to give birth! Infirmary!"
"Oh for Heaven's sake!" snapped the she-hippo impatiently. "Take us to the infirmary."
They hurried on, Mr. Mudway bring up the rear still rubbing his face and groaning.

Mr. Mudway stayed outdoors as he wretched and shook with all the moaning, wailing and screaming in the other, both from the vixen as her cub was inches away to be revealed to the world and from Nurse Buckorth ecnouraging her; "Harder! Push! PUUUUSH!"
With another agonising shriek, it was replaced by the wailing of a baby. With that, the hippo passed out, making the she-hippo shake her head in embarrassment.
"Well I'm not carrying him," said Mrs. Roundler. She burst into the room and looked at the pretty fox lying in bed, panting and tears streaming form her eyes.
Nurse Buckworth was nursing a bundle which began to wail and cry.
"Enough to wake the dead, ain't it?" the hippo criticised.
"Babies," remarked the beaver. "We've all been there, epically they who are new to motherhood."
"What is it?" asked the vixen weakly.
"Boy I'm guessing," responded the matron. She was just about to place the baby into a cot when -
"Let me see him," whispered the mother. "Let me see my baby, and then I will die. It's only a matter of time."
"Matter time for all of us," said the beaver dryly as she picked up the baby from the cot. "But for one so young to talk of dying so young. Come, come." Buckworth handed it to the mother and looked at him for the first time.
A beautiful cub she laid her eyes on. He stopped crying; he was sleeping peacefully and would hiccup every now and then. The vixen kissed her treasure.
She looked up at the matron, her eyes streaming with new tears.
"Find a way to contact Nicholas Wilde," she said faintly. "I was a fool to leave him. Ask him to bring him up for me. Please. My letter is in my pocket."
The hippo and beaver watched her kiss the cub as her eyes slowly closed - forever.
"Dead," said Mrs. Roundler bluntly. "Saves the orphanage another savage."
She took one glimpse of the locket which even Nurse Buckworth noticed at the same time. The hippo went closer when Mr. Mudwya, who had come around, grabbed her skirt and moaning.
When Nurse Buckworth saw her chance, she removed the locket from the dead fox and pocketed it. After she placed the baby in another nearby cradle, she gently placed the blanket over the vixen.
When Mrs. Roundler returned, she rushed to the shrouded corpse, removed the sheet and found nothing on the neck.
"No respect for the dead?" remarked Buckworth.
"Mind your own business, you fool!" snapped the hippo. "I thought I saw something on her."
She restored the shroud and demanded for the baby. Once directed, she picked the baby up and took it out of the infirmary.
The beaver looked down at her apron pouch and looked on.

The hippo waited a good ten minutes in the Mudway's office, as he was still grabbing some 'water' from the kitchen after the faint.
He returned visibly drinking form a hip flask, quickly denying it to be water.
"Waited long enough," Mrs. Roundler grumbled.
"So what's the result?" said Mr. Mudway sitting himself down and getting ready to wright.
"The mother died, sir," replied the hippo. "The baby lives but has no name."
"Nurse Buckworth said she died before he could be given one."
"He?"
"The baby! It''s a boy."
"Oh," said Mufway.
"She was spared some more life to name him in time, the mother. Chose to waste it."
"Typical," grumbled Mr. Mudway. "Very typical. So now it relies on me to name it."
He rummaged through the drawers in front of his desk and brought out an old brown-covered book. He placed round the office looking through the pages.
"We normally name predators as their trait," he explained. "Alphabetically of course. Last one was Rage so we'll call him - Sly."
He peered at the sleeping fox cub.
"Noah Sly."