It’s not a cat, nope, not a dog either! This lovely creature is a fox. What does the fox say? Well.. It’s not chacha-chacha-chacha-chow. Treated as a pest by many cultures for its habits of hunting. However.. If you have a large field of crops and want to keep the rabbits and mice away.. A fox is the best sort of hunter to have. Today, I’m going to take you under the fur of this majestic creature in a day of the life of the Fox.
What I See.. I open my amber eyes to the bright morning sun as it filters through the emerald canopy of the forest trees. The tall, untouched grass around me hides my bright orange fur from predator and prey. I rise to my paws and stretch my tiny limbs, tail lifting into the air. I sit still, my ears swiveling atop my head nose lifted as I scent the air deciding where my breakfast is coming from. My tail twitches in excitement as I sense the heartbeat of a small rodent downwind of me, roughly to hops away. Sinking low to the ground I pad quickly and quietly. I shuffle my back paws to meet my front and prepare to leap into the air to catch my unsuspecting prey. My muscles spring to life and I am airborne. I point my maw at the heartbeat I had sensed and aim my paws diligently. I land directly on top of my prey, teeth around its neck. I give it a quick shake and snap the neck. Breakfast is served. Cleaning the blood from my maw with licked paws, I decide to head to the lake for a drink. This is a dangerous act, my fur is bright and I stand out well. There are many creatures that like my scent, and I could easily become prey. Making my way through the thick underbrush I am constantly on alert for anger animals, especially the twolegs that have the loud killing sticks. Their scent boils my blood, it was them that made me an orphan. Finally I make it to the lake. Tentatively I step out into the open, not sensing any danger. I pad quietly up to the lake and lap up the cool refreshing water. I watch as a fish decides to swim rather close. Oh, it does look delicious. I lick my maw and eye the precariously perched branch coming from the water. I focus on the fish and leap up onto the bark of the branch. Aiming down I wait patiently for the prey to come to me. It swims closer..closer..almost.. I swipe the water with my paw, claws flexed to hook into the side of the fish. I lift it out of the water and clamp my jaws down on its hard scales. Carrying it to land I drop it. It wiggles and writhes and I can’t help but play. Pouncing on its tail as it flails across the ground. I keep swatting it around the small clearing until it finally lays still, out of breath, dead. My fun is over, but I am rewarded with lunch. With a full belly I return to the tall grasses and roll onto my back, sprawled out in the warm sunlight. Today has been a very good day. I let my eyes close as I drift off to sleep.my ear perk up and my head lifts to the distant but distinct sound of hunting dogs. I take no time to decide if they are following my trail or not. My instant thought is flee. I need to hide my scent. There is a patch of skunk weed not too far from here. I dash to it, rolling in it’s disgusting leaves that smell putrid. I then dash to my home, the fox hole beneath the old hollow tree of the owl. My home is close now and the dogs are distant. I curl up and hug my tail to my body. It is there I sleep.
The fox is a beautiful creature, hunted for its pelt, or sometimes just for fun. Animals die, it’s a fact of life, but needless killings for trivial reasons is just wrong. I met an old hunter once who had one rule. If you kill it, you eat it. He didn’t care what you shot. Weather it was bird, squirrel or large animal. But if you took that animal down, you were going to use it for meat. I agree to this way of thinking. What do you think of my fox tale?