Vixen
April 28, 2020
She suddenly appeared in the kitchen window during my morning granola. I have followed her tracks in the snow for years, but this was the first time I had seen this beautiful red/brown animal. Amazing presence. She seemed to fill up whatever space she occupied, dominant and conspicuous for an instant, then gone… only to turn up in another window in pursuit of a startled grey squirrel.
Under the SUV they both ran, the squirrel vectoring for a trio of lawn chairs. Figure eights under the chairs did not dislodge the fox, though all she seemed to be grabbing was tail feathers which don’t offer much of a grip. On one hairpin turn she ran right over the rolling squirrel, snapping at its belly which was a hairsbreadth too far away. Up a hydro pole leaped the squirrel. I couldn’t believe that she had not caught him. Squirrels lead lives of fractional misses.
The fox backed up a bit and stood there, watching the squirrel, now perched on an insulator. Then she was gone into the garden. My wife was on the rear deck at the time and excitedly filled me in on the chronology: The fox cut along the far side of the fence row below the house and then vanished into a thicket at the corner of the lawn. “It still hasn’t come out.”
A family of grey squirrels has a den in that corner of the fence and I haven’t been able to find it in over a decade of bemused observation. The fox had obviously decided to wait by the hole for her breakfast.