Do do do, foxy!
Liam Jr, the adolescent fox recent spotted loitering just outside my front door, showed up again the other night.
When spotted previously he was lounging, there’s no other word for it, very close to the house and showing not a jot of concern that he was being oggled. No doubt if I had run up to him and scared him off, or simply donned a scarlet coat, he’d of bolted, but his apparent unconcern was amazing.
Of course, I don’t for a second consider him cute, and if he shits in my garden I’ll be after him with a shovel, but it’s interesting to see wildlife close up without some gurning idiot in a fleece presenting a programme about it.
Barbecue season is now in full swing and from the look of it, Liam had been quite successful in liberating a cooked chicken wing from the prep area or griddle as he trotted along the street, looking very much like somebody who was going to be uncritical of the marinade.
As long as it keeps him out of my bins and off my garden, the neighbours can feed him titbits and shower him in champers.
When spotted previously he was lounging, there’s no other word for it, very close to the house and showing not a jot of concern that he was being oggled. No doubt if I had run up to him and scared him off, or simply donned a scarlet coat, he’d of bolted, but his apparent unconcern was amazing.
Of course, I don’t for a second consider him cute, and if he shits in my garden I’ll be after him with a shovel, but it’s interesting to see wildlife close up without some gurning idiot in a fleece presenting a programme about it.
Barbecue season is now in full swing and from the look of it, Liam had been quite successful in liberating a cooked chicken wing from the prep area or griddle as he trotted along the street, looking very much like somebody who was going to be uncritical of the marinade.
As long as it keeps him out of my bins and off my garden, the neighbours can feed him titbits and shower him in champers.
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