Foxy!

Yesterday, when I fed the outdoor kitties a very 'cool factor ten' thing happened. I fed the indoor cat, BC, as well but he isn't relevant to this post - despite his insistence.

So yeah. Outdoors, feeding cats. I look up and there, not five meters (fifteen feet for you unmetricified folk) away, was a fox. He (or she) just sat there quietly while alternating between watching me and watching the cats (as they ate).

I'd never seen a Fox face to face before, and my Fox-lore isn't what it should be. I was aware that foxes could take chickens and so had some concerns about my kitties, so I walked toward the fox and watched it back away. I kept walking and it kept moving until it turned and then trotted off. I followed slowly, down to the river, where I sat (this time twenty feet away) and engaged in more mutual observation. I watched the Fox, watching me watching it watching me and so on - you get the idea.

A few weeks ago I had heard fighting in the reeds and now realised it must have been the fox. This made me wonder - does the fox have babies? It did seem to be holding a last line of defence. When I approached again, it did not back away but moved to the side. So this made me think 'it has some babies in the reeds somewhere!' - Awwws!

So - I rang the local councils' animal control department, mainly looking for information of the potential danger of the Fox regarding my cats. I was told that cats are rarely bothered my a fox, because they fight back too well. Knowing my feral little cadre, I felt quite reassured. The fellow on the line also gave be the number for CALM (Conservation and Land Management) who, apparently, deal with Foxes and such.

I have not called them yet. A part of me knows I should but a part of me doesn't want to.

So tonight I looked for the fox when I fed the cats. It was there again!

I fed the cats and, to stop the fox stealing their food, laid down at guard. I put myself fifteen feet back from the cats and the fox took up a similar position on the other side. The cats didn't seem bothered at all: they just ate; I laid and watched the fox and the fox, eventually, laid down and, again, alternated between watching the cats and myself.

Eventually, the cats finished (they always leave food - as I overfeed them to keep the local wildlife safe) and came over to me, laying down and purring with post-feeding pleasure.

The Fox looked on cautiously and, eventually, moved up to the plate and finished what was left.

It was such a perfect moment, as all such moments always are. Having lived in and around the river and bushland for most of my life, I love just relaxing among it all. You can feel things in nature, as it all hums and thrums around you.

The fox just added another note to the overall tune.

But, foxes are not native to Australia, so they are generally not relocated - they are put down. So I am torn between the duty of calling down doom upon the poor thing and leaving it to, possibly, harm native wildlife. A real Hobbesian choice and I don't want to make it - dammit!

I wonder if the Fox will be there again tomorrow?

I hope so.