Foxes

[smokingboot]

Late last night larians and I heard a fox bark so insistent and nearby, we checked to see if it was in the garden. We were staring out of our bedroom window. I saw nothing at first, then larians told me to look on our garage roof a few feet away. There he was, a real christmas card portrait, strong and well built, all white down his muzzle and bushy tailed. I didn't know they climbed. He just sat there under the pear tree commanding the garden, turning back to check us out every now and then. But he wasn't the one barking.

The culprit was a half-lit shadow glimpsed against the fence two doors down, where a poultry enthusiast named 'Chicken Jerry' keeps his coop.

Our neighbours on the other side are convinced that the broken down sheds and fences just beyond the back of our garden mark the den of a dog fox. I wouldn't be surprised if our resident garage sitter and his coop stalking chum made a home there. It's 6.13 now, and I am awake for no reason. The cats are clamouring to go out. They can stay put until sunrise or when I'm sure young Master Vulpes has gone to bed. They say foxes won't go for cats, but he's a very big boy.