"After The Fox" and a recent attempted murder!
August 14th 2008 09:26
The movie, "After the Fox", too often played on ABCTV, is about the humanity of a Master of the Hounds, who saves a poor young red fox, from the vicious jaws of The Hunt; a bearable but dated 60's film. My own version is titled; KILL THE RUDDY FOX! One vile, sneaky, loathsome creature, of the silver fox variety, has tried to assassinate my dear Stella "Babydoll Pugface" the 3rd, just recently!
Photo credit: Dave Schaffer; US Fish and WIldlife Service, digital library. Public Domain.
LINK digital library
This evil menace, this vermin, had killed six of my neighbour's chickens three weeks ago, tearing them to pieces, after digging into the cage and then, strangely, leaving the carcasses.
The following week, around midnight, as I stood out front on the grass verge with Stella, waiting for her to do her bedtime 'personal maintenance', I noticed what I thought to be a cat trot around the lane corner. It stopped upon seeing me, then advanced a few steps looking at Stella, who was once again in a reverie, staring out at the starry sky, sniffing the scented gums upon the icy breeze, her dream state intermittently interrupted by gagging, as she partly swallowed her own tongue, a sign of her age and requited charm.
This 'cat', it then occurred to me, had unusually large erect ears and a long snout. I was used to seeing the classic looking red fox with a white tip to its tail, but that was way down south in the hills of Victoria. This particular animal, however, was all mottled grey with silver tips. My sister had a large coat made of his cousins, I mused, after I realized it was not a cat, but a scruffy silver fox. I advanced two paces staring down at it, and the fox turned and flashed off into the night.
Two weeks later, I am out front again with Stella.
I was waiting for her to find her 'muse' and decided to put the large golf umbrella down, as the spitting had ceased, so I turned into the breeze to shut it. As I snapped it shut, I heard this "SNAP!" noise behind me. I swung around to look at Stella, who was standing not two feet away from me and as I turned I saw it, the fox leaping through the air just inches from Stella. Our eyes met, and instantly, mid air, it did a half aerial somersault over Stella, its tail cracking again, and then belted off down the street and 'ran up' my neighbour's vertical five foot wall, disappearing into their garden. I think the silver pointed end of the umbrella may have startled it. But what a gall, to try and snatch Stella while I was standing next to her! It also meant the fox was lying in wait for us. This also explained the small thin pooh at my front gate and at the rear gate. The fox was marking out its dinner territory, and Stella was to be the main course!
During the entire fox saga, Stella remained unperturbed, sniffing the wind, with a slight quizzical look, probably wondering where the 'skanky' smell was coming from, unawares she just survived, by the skin of her teeth, certain death in the jaws of a fox.
Although Stella weighs a comfortable 8 and a half kilos, the fox trapper told me, when I rang the next day, it would have easily dragged her off to her doom!
So, it is a little nervy being out at night now, with Stella in tow, I keep a torch and a heavy walking stick, made in Mexico and covered with lovely coloured carvings, which I will break in two, over the fox's head, without compunction should it try and snatch our ancient and defenceless 'fur-baby' from me again.
In fact, I have gone a step further and hired two fox traps, humane traps mind you, not hurty ones (it is a large cage with a swing trap door) and have been setting them every night the last week or so.
I have managed to catch something every night. Trouble is, not one was a fox, they were all my neighbour's cats! Four of them, one twice!
Photo Credit: Marek Novotný (Prague, Czech Republic)
Photos from: openphoto.net LINK
License: Attribution Share Alike:
LINK: Creative Commons
Then, the ultimate annoyance, I check the trap and find all the food gone, but the trap still set! The bloody cats have worked out how to leap over the trip plate and back again, escaping with the food.
I am ready to give up!
I know I posted about how much I abhore The Hunt, and I still do, but, I must admit, when it comes to the safety of our pugface pet person, I want the Beaufort Hunt here tomorrow! If I was a billionaire, I'd fly the blood lusty psychopathic maniacs out here just to get these damnable animals.
I have to stand guard every night now, searching the surrounding landscape, as Stella pees, just in case the evil little vermin is hiding, awaiting to pounce.
Australia did not have foxes originally. The vermin fox plague today is because of the British upper class, who brought foxes out here for sport! Now they kill all our native fauna, and some of our pets too. Same with the rabbits, the English brought them out as a fodo source when they were setting up the penal colony, only a half dozen I think. Those half dozen rabbits multiplied to the MILLIONS!
Maybe we could demand that the English government come out here and catch them all and take them back to merry ole England? Imagine The Kings Road, The Mall, the grounds of Windsor Castle, Knightsbridge and Mayfair over run with millions of rabbits, with tens of thousands of foxes chasing them!
Wouldn't that be a sight to see?
Grey Fox: photo by Dave Schaffer
Photo credit: Dave Schaffer; US Fish and WIldlife Service, digital library. Public Domain.
LINK digital library
This evil menace, this vermin, had killed six of my neighbour's chickens three weeks ago, tearing them to pieces, after digging into the cage and then, strangely, leaving the carcasses.
The following week, around midnight, as I stood out front on the grass verge with Stella, waiting for her to do her bedtime 'personal maintenance', I noticed what I thought to be a cat trot around the lane corner. It stopped upon seeing me, then advanced a few steps looking at Stella, who was once again in a reverie, staring out at the starry sky, sniffing the scented gums upon the icy breeze, her dream state intermittently interrupted by gagging, as she partly swallowed her own tongue, a sign of her age and requited charm.
This 'cat', it then occurred to me, had unusually large erect ears and a long snout. I was used to seeing the classic looking red fox with a white tip to its tail, but that was way down south in the hills of Victoria. This particular animal, however, was all mottled grey with silver tips. My sister had a large coat made of his cousins, I mused, after I realized it was not a cat, but a scruffy silver fox. I advanced two paces staring down at it, and the fox turned and flashed off into the night.
Two weeks later, I am out front again with Stella.
I was waiting for her to find her 'muse' and decided to put the large golf umbrella down, as the spitting had ceased, so I turned into the breeze to shut it. As I snapped it shut, I heard this "SNAP!" noise behind me. I swung around to look at Stella, who was standing not two feet away from me and as I turned I saw it, the fox leaping through the air just inches from Stella. Our eyes met, and instantly, mid air, it did a half aerial somersault over Stella, its tail cracking again, and then belted off down the street and 'ran up' my neighbour's vertical five foot wall, disappearing into their garden. I think the silver pointed end of the umbrella may have startled it. But what a gall, to try and snatch Stella while I was standing next to her! It also meant the fox was lying in wait for us. This also explained the small thin pooh at my front gate and at the rear gate. The fox was marking out its dinner territory, and Stella was to be the main course!
During the entire fox saga, Stella remained unperturbed, sniffing the wind, with a slight quizzical look, probably wondering where the 'skanky' smell was coming from, unawares she just survived, by the skin of her teeth, certain death in the jaws of a fox.
Although Stella weighs a comfortable 8 and a half kilos, the fox trapper told me, when I rang the next day, it would have easily dragged her off to her doom!
So, it is a little nervy being out at night now, with Stella in tow, I keep a torch and a heavy walking stick, made in Mexico and covered with lovely coloured carvings, which I will break in two, over the fox's head, without compunction should it try and snatch our ancient and defenceless 'fur-baby' from me again.
In fact, I have gone a step further and hired two fox traps, humane traps mind you, not hurty ones (it is a large cage with a swing trap door) and have been setting them every night the last week or so.
I have managed to catch something every night. Trouble is, not one was a fox, they were all my neighbour's cats! Four of them, one twice!
a very naughty cat person!
Photo Credit: Marek Novotný (Prague, Czech Republic)
Photos from: openphoto.net LINK
License: Attribution Share Alike:
LINK: Creative Commons
Then, the ultimate annoyance, I check the trap and find all the food gone, but the trap still set! The bloody cats have worked out how to leap over the trip plate and back again, escaping with the food.
I am ready to give up!
I know I posted about how much I abhore The Hunt, and I still do, but, I must admit, when it comes to the safety of our pugface pet person, I want the Beaufort Hunt here tomorrow! If I was a billionaire, I'd fly the blood lusty psychopathic maniacs out here just to get these damnable animals.
Typical Hunt. Sick 'em Rex!
I have to stand guard every night now, searching the surrounding landscape, as Stella pees, just in case the evil little vermin is hiding, awaiting to pounce.
Australia did not have foxes originally. The vermin fox plague today is because of the British upper class, who brought foxes out here for sport! Now they kill all our native fauna, and some of our pets too. Same with the rabbits, the English brought them out as a fodo source when they were setting up the penal colony, only a half dozen I think. Those half dozen rabbits multiplied to the MILLIONS!
Maybe we could demand that the English government come out here and catch them all and take them back to merry ole England? Imagine The Kings Road, The Mall, the grounds of Windsor Castle, Knightsbridge and Mayfair over run with millions of rabbits, with tens of thousands of foxes chasing them!
Wouldn't that be a sight to see?
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