A bit of an update of a post from a couple of years ago. It was prompted by two things. Firstly, there was a lot of police activity around here yesterday as the cops launched a security operation for the local hunt. Secondly, rumour has it that Cameron’s Cronies are trying to get the 2004 ban on fox hunting lifted. You’d think that this government had a few more things on its plate, https://nobodysreadingme.wordpress.com/2015/05/18/how-not-to-have-your-priorities-right-2/ but where toffs and money are concerned the Bullingdon  elite will take it in both ends if the contributions keep rolling.

People have a view of foxes coloured by Beatrix Potter, as handsome creatures full of virtue. Bollocks. Foxes are the only creatures I know of, apart from man, who kill for the sheer hell of it.

I used to live in a place that had a spectacular view of the Chelmer valley. Someone I knew there kept chickens. Not your battery boilers, real chickens. Weirdly, she used to take them to shows and win competitions. Well, you know, different strokes for different folks. As well as being exotically wonderful, the chickens were daft as a brush, and would attempt to eat your bootlaces because they look like worms. Trust me, a headless chicken is no less stupid than an intact chicken, but I wished these creatures no ill.

One night a fox managed to do a reverse Colditz, and got into the henhouse. It killed every single one of these rather engaging idiot avians. Every single one. And it ate none of them. It simply killed them.

There’s another aspect to foxes. They are opportunist scavengers. When you wake up of a morning and the contents of your wheelie bin are strewn all over your back garden, blame cuddly Mr Reynard.

I clonked a fox once when I was in a van, got out to check the damage to my vehicle, then took an idle glance at the fully dead canine.

It was not magnificent in any way, shape, or form. It was manged, it clearly had fleas, and was a disgrace to the animal world, a slinker, a scavenger, a wastrel, and extremely malodorous. Fox shit, as it happens, is what your dog loves rolling about in, then you have to bath them.

Much as I hate killing, it could have been a lot worse. My conscience was clear.

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