Those Silly Foxes

All through the winter of 2010 to 11, there was a large peaceful fox that would sit regally in a patch of sunlight on the hill top, or curl up to sleep on other days, in the same patch of warmth, or bark for the dog down the street, his friend, to come and play fox and hound.

I've discovered that while I was gone he turned into lanky, lean, beautifully bushy tailed teenaged foxES who peek in our windows, tumble and chase up and down the decks, and run the squirrels up the trees.

And carry off shoes. My favorite outdoor slip-ons that I slipped off at the front door have a missing mate somewhere in the hundred acre wood. And they were even too muddy to taste good.

Silly foxes.