Reynard's call

All week our sleep has been disturbed by a loud bark. Not the bark of a domestic dog, but of an urban dog fox. 

I saw him yesterday, in the early hours. He and I stood still, observing one another momentarily. He ran off, untroubled, to carry on his crepuscular activity. He will continue his barking till he finds himself a mate.  The shrill noise carried on the still frosty night air. 

We shall know he's successful when we hear the call of the vixen - a blood curdling scream. 

We share our garden with all manner of creatures; some we see, some elusive. 

The urban fox has been one of nature's success stories. Whilst numbers in rural areas may be declining, in the towns and cities numbers are on the rise. As well as eating rodents and earthworms, they scavenge dustbins. As a result, they grow bigger than their rural cousins. We know many people who leave out food for foxes, but we choose not to. 

Foxes, after all, are wild - and should be treated as such.

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