It is bitterly cold again this afternoon, with a chill wind that cuts through you. I was doing the washing up, and I noticed something russet on the wall in the middle of the leaves.
The fox was asleep.
I took a photo, as you might expect me to do.
Half Hidden Fox
I wake suddenly. It must be about four. Something has made a loud noise. I can feel the echo of it in my quitted sleep; more vibration than sound. I lie and listen. Nothing. Something. I get up and open the shutters. The cat climbs onto the sill and we see a fox race out of the garden. Another movement catches my eye. A larger fox is scurrying along the wall to the left. The cat is alert, focused, but his attention is elsewhere. I follow his line of attention just in time to see a small, probably female, fox scramble over the roof of the bike rack and leap onto the ground. She too races from the garden. The larger fox is swift in his pursuit. There are a few sharp barks, then silence. The window has steamed with our condensed breath. Cat and human gaze out onto the now still garden for a few more moments and then return to bed and sleep.
I was out at work all day and left Cat snoring on the bed.
This evening, I am quite happy to wind down after dinner and chill. Cat is radiating disappointment at my lack of energy. I don’t know quite what he wants me to do, but I do know I’m failing.
Normally I’d be encouraging him to go out, and I’m prepared for another session as a chaperon. The foxes are out and about again. I took some pix earlier. I’ve heard a tale that some foxes tore a cat apart nearby. I don’t know if it’s true, and no one seems to have witnessed the incident, but it means I don’t want Cat out on his own after dark or during the early morning. Last night he raced up the cherry tree and explored the branches. It was just like the old days of his prime.
Still, I shall be very happy when Mr and Mrs Fox tell the cubs it’s time for them to leave home and set up on their own, and my sleep is less disturbed by Cat pacing about and vocalising from the pre-dawn until breakfast.
Isobel (and Cat)'s Blog 