Wildlife Sanctuary

We appear to have acquired a fox. Of course, I am used to clearing up after foxes, swearing as I do so and hoping that the peg I have to wear over my nose while doing so is not going to cause permanent disfigurement, but actually having the thing dozing in the back garden is something else entirely. He is rather cute though, and I'm hoping that we have achieved some sort of detent, he is able to sleep in peace in the sunny patch in the garden, unmolested, as long as he doesn't use the place as a loo. I'm rather hoping that as well as not s**ting where they eat, foxes don't s**t where they sleep either.

Wonder idly how far this Disnyfication of the local wildlife will extend? Are the local cute critters or, as I like to call them, vermin, going to come and do the housework? Are they cheaper by the hour than cleaners from EU accession countries?

At least he's keeping the squirrel at bay, mind you, now that the sunflowers have been thoroughly buggered, there's little for the nut-crunching little detox dieting toothy get to ravage.

We actually met face to face recently, I was taking some rubbish out and Liam the fox was skulking round the bins. I let out a girl-like scream and Liam shot away so quickly that there was a small clap of imploding air behind him.

It's a fragile truce, but holding. Of course, as soon as he breaks it by soiling his copy book, I'm going to set the Quorn on him.