Fox Follow-up

Nancy and I experienced over a week where we had an unusually high number of fox-sightings, where the animals were very close to us and our house. Although its den was elsewhere, we saw fox many times throughout the day. This was an exciting and uncommon experience, but it had its sad side too, which I'll explain later. But first, a few photos.

The photo above is closely cropped so it may seem a bit blurry, but I wanted to point out the differences in color between this one and the other one. Yes, there are at least two fox, and though there may be more than two, I think we have been seeing only two different ones.

 The one above appears older and healthier. Note the black shading on the back. I cannot tell from this angle if it a male fox or a female, which is called a vixen. 

The fox below is clearly smaller and quite mangy-looking. It could be a young one. During mid-day on Tuesday, I surprised the smaller fox as it was curled up inside a five-gallon pail that was tipped on its side by the garden. It scrambled out and ran, stopping after about fifty yards to look back at me in that unique, fox-like manner. 

Five minutes later while I was still roaming the yard, I saw the larger fox return, trot up to the pail, and look inside. Seeing nothing, it quickly gazed around for danger before it ran off. It looked pretty surprised that the little fox was gone. Later I smelled the inside of that pail. It was really a strong odor! I'd guess the smaller fox napped in there often.

The next day we saw no fox, and we haven't seen them since, which led Nancy and me to speculate why.
The answer, I think, is obvious now. Our house and yard provided an easy food source for a short time.

In May and early June I noticed that there were no rabbits around. Last year they were all over the yard. Apparently, the fox made short work of them last winter and this spring. Then this spring we experienced lots of robins hopping on the ground in the back yard, and they seemed more tame and unaware than usual. I remember that Nancy and I commented on the plentiful robin population every day we saw them. There aren't as many tame ones around now. We also had cedar waxwings in the junipers, wrens that would complain with only common, wren-like regularity, and lots of brave chipping sparrows that would hop near our feet when we sat on the porch. When the fox were around the waxwings left, the wrens became very noisy, and for awhile the chipping sparrows became more shy.

The sad side of the fox-sightings is that the fox hunted the rabbits, robins, low-nesting waxwings and chipping sparrows very aggressively until the "easy pickings" were gone. Now they have moved on.
Well, I'm not sad about the rabbits being gone, and the surviving waxwings may return again. The wrens are undamaged, and because the fox are not around, they complain less. Chipping sparrows are back hopping near our feet again. I think their nests were higher in the arborvitae. However, I was really sad to see a number of scattered robin feathers where the fox had been successful. I counted five.

Well, the fox were just trying to make a living, and I certainly do not begrudge a wild animal that right. They live a hard, unforgiving life. If they don't make a kill, they will die.
I do, however, continue to chase away well-fed house cats from our yard because they do not need the birds for food or live toys. I wouldn't hurt any kitties, but I prefer they lead their semi-civilized lives in their own yards.

Photographs by Nancy A. Fredrickson

Fox Out Front

I'm used to getting a glimpse of the elusive fox once or twice during a summer, but recently I've surprised the animal far more times than I have during my entire life.
Last week, I heard the wrens making even more noise than they usually do, so I ventured over to the wren house to see if there was an issue. I thought heard a slight growl. Figuring a neighbor's dog might be in the brush, I clapped my hands. Then I saw a fox tail slip behind the arborvitae. Obviously, I had no camera, but after the fact, I took some pictures of the area.

 Imagine, if you would, playing hide and seek with a fox among these arborvitaes. The pyramidal arborvitaes on the left are about 15 feet tall and 4 feet wide. The global arborvitaes on the right are about 10 feet tall and 8 feet wide. The fox outsmarted me for several minutes before I saw the tail gliding away over the hill about 40 feet away. This whole array of greenery is less than 50 feet from our house, an unusually close distance for a fox to visit for very long.

The next morning as Nancy and I were about to venture out to look at the flowers, she stopped and ran for the camera, exclaiming, "Fox!"

Fox was less than 10 feet from the house, looking for some bug protein among the rocks. Looks pretty thin, huh? Maybe Fox might actually be raising offspring in the nearby juniper bushes which are only about 30 feet from the house.

 I know this is unlikely as heck,  but why else do we keep seeing him so close to the house? Why is he so reluctant to leave? Why else do the wrens make even more noise than usual? Why did the cedar waxwings that nested in the junipers this spring, leave after a short time?  Eight to ten cedar waxwings usually nest in the low junipers and entertain us all summer and into the fall, but their nest in the low junipers could easily be reached and robbed  by Fox.

Fox posing by mugo pine, near the junipers, about 12 feet from the house.

Could the low junipers (center) conceal the den of Fox?

The wrens have taken over one of my bluebird houses, and you can see in the photo above the close proximity of the house to the low junipers. I know it's pretty unlikely that Fox will raise young this close to humans, but he keeps appearing almost daily and doesn't seem all that frightened of us. Of course, we've done nothing to scare him, unless you count the clapping I did when I thought his growl was a neighbor's dog.

Well, it's fun to speculate, and we'll be watching to see what happens. I'll let you know.

Photographs by Nancy A. Fredrickson

Wild Gardener

As I walk out to check my roses in the morning, I take along a  small clipper to cut the withering blossoms, which encourages the bush to produce more buds. Although I love to visit my roses, cutting the old blossoms is not a job I relish.

I tell my wife, "It's just not like me to discard a beautiful  living  thing just because its beauty is fading." Nancy just smiles and shakes her head.

Hiding the small cutter behind my back, I approach my favorite pink rose. She blossoms daily and produces buds packed together as tightly as kittens nursing. I position my nose and inhale. Sweet!

But a former beauty sags, her petals starting to fall. Gently, I gather the old blossom in my hand and snip it off below my fingers. I repeat the process on other fading blossoms until I have a handful of petals, which I discard into the nearby tall grass. "Rest in Peace," I say as I scatter the soft remnants.

I walk two steps to see that my small yellow rose has no blossoms. "What happened to you? Yesterday you had a beautiful new blossom."

A bit puzzled, I take a step toward the red rose, which was loaded with blossoms yesterday, but today only the tops of cut stems look up at me. Not a blossom adorns the knee-high stems and no petals are on the ground. What could've happened??

I rush inside to share the news with my wife, who looks out the window to confirm my discovery. "Maybe a deer ate the blossoms," she offers. "I know they eat other flowers."

Later that day, Nancy comes into the shed to see me as I am working on a project. She shows me the display on her digital camera and grins. "I may have found your gardener. I spotted this little guy eating daisy petals before I ran in to get the camera."









Maybe the rose petals were sacrificed for a better purpose. What do you think?









Photographs by Nancy A. Fredrickson