A chaotic love letter to the fox who’s been with me through it all.
Hi, I’m Asten — autistic, disabled, nostalgic to my core, and once described (accurately) as a girl raised by a talking fox.
Because for me, it was never Barbie or Bratz. It was Basil Brush — the puppet, the icon, the chaotic legend in a waistcoat.
From the moment I saw him, something clicked. That voice. That laugh. That BOOM BOOM.
This wasn’t just a TV show. It was a lifeline.
📺 How It All Began
I must’ve been about 10 when I properly discovered The Basil Brush Show — the CBBC reboot, loud and ridiculous and perfect in every way.
While other kids were obsessed with cartoons or boybands, I was obsessed with… a fox. A posh, overdramatic, pun-loving fox who made me laugh harder than anything else ever had.
He wasn’t cool. He wasn’t trendy. But he was mine.
Core memory: Laughing so hard at one of his jokes I nearly fell off the sofa — and then rewinding the tape to watch it again.
🧠 The Autistic Joy of Basil
Looking back, it all makes sense.
There was a rhythm to Basil — his voice, his punchlines, even his timing. He made everything feel predictable, but never boring.
His “Boom boom!” became a form of comfort. His laugh? A dopamine hit. The whole show? A sensory-safe place, even if the plots were unhinged.
I didn’t just like him. I collected him.
Clips, merch, photos, facts, trivia. I wanted to know everything. It became a proper special interest — and honestly, still kind of is.
Daisy says: “He’s not a puppet. He’s a lifestyle choice.”
🦊 The Chaos That Raised Me
This fox was WILD.
The jokes? Questionable.
The chaos? Constant.
The sidekicks? Mr. Stephen, Mr. Derek, even Anil the café owner — they were just trying to survive Basil’s nonsense.
There was an episode where Basil accidentally became a rock star. Another where he ran for office. And one where he got possessed by a ghost, I think?
It was all peak British kids’ TV — low budget, high energy, and full of innuendos they hoped you wouldn’t notice. (I did.)
And I loved every second.
🧡 It Wasn’t a Phase, Mum
Here’s the thing: my love for Basil never really went away.
Sure, I got older. I moved on to other shows, interests, jobs, responsibilities… but every now and then, I’ll still pull up a clip and get that same feeling.
That warm, autistic joy. That comfort. That connection to my younger self.
And now? I embrace it. I celebrate it. I blog about it, apparently.
Because that weird little fox helped raise me.
And no matter how chaotic things got, Basil Brush was always there. Loud. Smug. Smiling.
And yelling “Boom boom!” like it was the most important thing in the world.
You know what? Maybe it was.
Daisy says: “If I’d met him in real life, I’d have married him. Then divorced him for the drama.”
💥 Final Thoughts
Some people grow out of their childhood favourites.
Me? I kept mine close. Basil Brush wasn’t just a show I liked. He was — and still is — part of my story.
To anyone else who ever loved something “too much,” or felt like their special interest didn’t make sense to other people… this one’s for you.
Because he made sense to me.
Boom boom — forever.
Asten Does Nostalgia 
Leave a comment