Foxes

Yesterday in the late afternoon I saw  a dog fox near the pond. He ran so swiftly, tail outstretched, following the line of the fence. Ginger fur, bushy brush and a black strip to his face, just like the gentleman in the Beatrice Potter story. Today as Barney and I were nearly home I heard the vixen bark. As we neared the gate she came down the hill, really close, and with her were two of last year's cubs. I was absolutely delighted. I have never seen them before. But Jane won't be pleased. The pheasants she feeds every morning are so tame now. And the foxes are clearly very hungry.