Family of Five Fox

Dear Mom,

Occasionally I’d see a red fox in the yard. They are rather sly. One I believed I told you about had jumped to the island in the middle of our pond, snatched a duck egg, leaped back and ran into the woods—all in the matter of seconds. Really, seconds. The graceful creature didn’t miss a beat.

I don’t know if the fox was male or female. Who could tell with the quick movements, but I gather it was one of the parents to the five young fox I saw the other day.

Writing in my bed—my favorite most producing place to write, my cat Smeagol jumped up from a deep catnap and stared out the window from the headboard. Curious, I looked. Holy cow. One, two, three fox. No, four. Wait, five. I watched as intently as Smeagol… for different reasons.

One fox lay on the driveway not moving. I wondered what was wrong with him. His siblings would take turns checking on him. Sniffing. Giving him a little tap. Making him roll over. Jumping over him.

When one was on duty, the others would frolic in my garden. Bouncing into the grassy bushes, leaping over the Knock Out Roses, chasing one another. They dashed about playing, and keeping an eye out for Mr. Something’s Wrong Fox.

I finally grabbed my camera. I didn’t think the pictures would come out very good because I had to shoot them through the window with a screen. However, they weren’t too bad.

I worried about Mr. Something’s Wrong Fox until he eventually jumped up and started mingling with the others.

Mr. Hunter Fox had something dangling from his mouth, dropped it and snarled at the other two who were looking for a handout. “No way! Get your own. This one’s mine!”

The other two went off and told secrets about Mr. Greedy Hunter Fox.

He didn’t eat whatever it was, and when they all trotted off down the driveway, I went outside to examine the catch that Mr. Hunter Fox left on the rock.

I think it’s a mole, and well I’m glad Mr. Hunter Fox nabbed it, although I’m sure there’s plenty more where Mr. Mole came from. But that’s life in the woods.

Tired after all the playing, they headed home.

Dear Oh Deer

Dear Mom,

Smeagol, our cat stood at the door doing his chattering thing which caused me to look up and there stood a deer drinking from our pond. I figured by the time I grabbed the camera to take a picture, it’d leap into the woods. I carefully inched my way to the door tiptoeing being as quiet as I could. You wouldn’t believe how well those deer can hear you even with the windows and doors closed. I aimed through the glass and snapped the first picture. The deer immediately turned around and stared at me. I stood like a statue just like the deer. We watched each other motionless. I worried if I took another picture he’d dart off, but I decided to snap a shot anyway knowing the deer wasn’t going to stand around in the garden all day. I slowly lifted the camera lens to my eye and clicked the button. The deer still didn’t move. His one ear stood up cocked and he continued to stare. Then I guess he figured he’d better get the heck out of dodge so he trampled over my flowers and headed toward the woods.

I don’t mind that the wild animals eat and drink from our yard and feel rather fortunate that we offer them a place of some peace.