Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?
I went out the shut the chickens up for the night, but as I was leaning into one of the cockerel boxes to slide the pophole shut I had the sudden feeling I was being watched.
I slowly raised my head and looked around.
As I swept my eyes across the mass of nettles beneath the spruce trees, I spotted a cheeky russet and white face staring out at me.
Its ears were quivering, its eyes were alight with curiosity and its tongue was lolloping to one side.
My watcher was a young fox cub, about four or five months old.
As I watched him watching me, we both heard a yipping from the other side of the road, behind the trees.
The fox cub looked round, looked back at me, and then sprang away under the trees.
He ran into the chicken wire fence that runs along the road, hesitated for a moment, while more yipping came from across the road, then scampered to the right—the correct direction.
When he came to the end of the fence, he darted under the board fence that joins the wire fence to the back of the cottage, and scampered across the road.
A vixen appeared from the undergrowth, nosed the cub, nipped him and then herded him down into the gully.
I think Junior was in a bit of trouble for going off on an adventure on his own!
I know farmers do not like foxes but that was still a cute and funny story and l could picture it perfectly. Mums of all species can be unreasonable with their young
I bet that vixen was secretly proud of her cub. Observing the habits of chicken keepers probably makes for a smart (and full bellied) fox.
That gap under the fence will be another job on the list then? Good of him to show you where.
No, I won’t be closing it up. The fence is not intended to be fox proof. It’s a fence for keeping chickens off the road.
The cockerel boxes all have fox-proof runs, while the big hen house opens into a large, fox-proof compound with seven-foot higher mesh fences, electric top and bottom wires, and weld-mesh laid flat on the ground and buried. The hens stay in there during lean times for foxes—ie mid to late winter and early spring.
Provided the foxes—and stoats, weasels and pine martens—leave our livestock alone, I’m quite happy to leave them alone.
Just loved that story…..very cute / well written.
Live and let live likely won’t last that long now that he’s found you and seen the chickens. Maybe you’ll get lucky and mum will scold him out of the idea of hanging around contemplating your smorgassboard. I’ve found that once they find you, they keep on trying until they succeed or…Good luck with that!
PS. the feeling of being watched was exactly what I felt when the cougar was watching my lay my strawberry patch.
cheers,
HDR
We have several foxes that cross the croft regularly, including an old dog fox that’s been here the whole time we’ve been here. They generally leave the chickens alone, although there have been two incidents that I’ve seen.
The first time was when a young dog fox started stalking the chickens when they were ranging outside their “fort”—he was attacked and driven off by a bantam cockerel we had at the time.
The second was when a fox tried to run up and over the fence that marks out the chickens’ winter enclosure. He scampered up a snowdrift but as he tried to go over the top of the fence he hit the electric wire I’d run around it. The fox screamed, shot straight up in the air. crashed down into the snow, and then floundered off at speed.
So, we shall see.
When we had electric fencing for our chickens (back in a previous life….sigh!) the only time foxy got in was when we had snow and it drifted, covering the top of the fence. He just walked in and helped himself….!
Just caught up with reading this.A new computer has meant things got behind…
The ‘dog-fox’ you talk about, is that a cross between dog and wild fox? yes, the e-fencing helps!
HDR
Male foxes are dog foxes. Also known as dogs or tods. Females are vixens. Young are cubs or pups. And a group of foxes is a skulk.
Now, how did I get this far in life without ever knowing what the collective noun for foxes is? Thanks, Stoney!