Luck was with me tonight as I sat in the my newly purchased blind in my neighbor’s back yard to watch the evening antics of the fox family. They reappeared right on schedule at 6 p.m. and kept up quite a show for an hour, with the kits scampering up, over, and around the compost pile, and the adult checking on them once in a while. The light was getting dim, but gave the scene a rosy glow. Click on the photos for best viewing.

The sole daytime photo of fox standing guard (?) at the brush pile above their den.  Camera in new location in neighbor’s backyard focused on a flat space where the foxes reportedly sun themselves.

A rare shot of a fox kit sitting still momentarily in the flat space above the den.

More often the action looked like this.  The camera took 67 photos between 7:25 p.m. and  11 p.m. of adults and kits dashing around this flat space.  I don’t know whether they were play-practicing their hunting or really catching something.  Too dark to tell.

One of many blurry photos in the dark of kits scampering about in the neighbor’s backyard.

arctic fox kits play

This is some arctic fox kits sketch play fighting. This sketch was created using water soluble ink so that it would run. That is how I achieved the gradients, and why it has a purple like color.

As an added bonus, when I was walking back to my car I spied these little guys playing at the edge of the woods while waiting for mama to bring them some breakfast.  I shot a couple of frames, not wanting to get too close for fear of scaring them away but kicking myself at the same time for having a short lens on my camera.  While I was focusing on them I noticed that one of them was focusing on something behind me.  I turned around and there was the mama fox staring at me from about 50 feet away, a squirrel or some other little critter hanging from her mouth.  She was clearly not too pleased to see me standing between her and her kits.  As soon as I face her she turned and ran away into the woods again, so I got in my car and waited for her return.  While waiting I shot this frame of the little guys playing with one another.  When mama did eventually return she did so very quietly and through the woods, so I wasn’t able to get a clear shot of her.

As the last days of winter melted away, the ground became soggy from the melting snow.  Everyone was once again happy to run with abandon across the pasture without worries of a slippery icy terrain.  With the melting ground, came a lot of mud.

Abi, Lady Gray and Image

Image and Ember

Image, running to me

We had seen signs of our resident fox on the prowl.  His mate was tucked away in their den along the creek bank taking care of their newborn young.  It would be a good month or more before the baby foxes would venture out of the den to start exploring their new world.

Ember and Abi are always the first to let me know when there is something different in the pasture.

Ember sees the fox up on the hil

Alert ears and posture tense, they are ready to flee at less than a moments notice should some danger be lurking.  Ember became alert, looking at the far hills, seeing something moving in the distance.  But as we watched, it was Papa fox coming back to the den after a day of hunting.  Ember soon relaxed as she has learned there is nothing to fear from the family of foxes that have denned on our pastures for years now.  She has taken her cue from Abi, her alpha, that there is nothing to be afraid of.  The foxes and our horses have learned to co-exist on our land.  The foxes have no reason to fear the horses and the horses, in turn, have learned that the foxes pose no threat or danger to them.

Momma Fox and Lady Gray cross paths

Momma Fox with a few of her young

We were thrilled when we saw the first of the fox kits emerge from their den.  They did not stray far the first few days as their eyes became clearer and they gained a little more confidence.  Momma or Papa fox was always nearby keeping an eye on them.  We counted 6 kits in this litter.  We were excited about the coming days, knowing the youngsters would be running and playing and scampering about the pasture without a care in the world.  It would be a while yet, before Momma would teach them to be wary of different dangers that surround them.

Momma fox with her babies

I set up my photography blind out in the pasture with a clear view of the foxes den.  In doing so, I also have to put up a mock fence around it to keep the horses from tearing it down in their endless curiosity.  I always chuckle to myself each year as Terry and I put the blind up that we should call it something else.  It certainly is not a ‘blind’ when I have to put high visibility tape around it to keep the horses out of it.  Momma and Papa fox are well aware of it being there.  They know when I am in it too.  The way Papa fox acts in a nonchalant way, I would venture to say that he was raised here.  He is probably one of the young from a previous year’s litter.  Momma fox isn’t as comfortable with our presence as her mate is.  That is fine.  I want her to teach her young to stay away from people.  I have no desire to habituate these beautiful foxes to humans.  That would surely be a death sentence for them.

Ember and I watching as Terry rides Lady Gray

We all know the famous saying that April showers bring May flowers. And we all love the beautiful flowers that appear in Spring, bringing a fresh splash of color to the drag browns of the fading winter. The rains of April were heavy, with little to no relief.

rain quickly fills one of Embers hoof prints

The ground was over saturated and soon the steady rain had no place to go except out of the creek banks and into the pastures. Knowing God’s promise not to flood the earth again was a great comfort to me as the water kept rising.  I knew it would stop eventually.  The majority of our pastures are on the other side of the creek from the shelter of the barn. As I have mentioned several posts ago, we keep our horses in a free roaming environment. The barn is always open should they decide to come inside. Or they are free to stay outside if they so choose. Our pasture and creek banks have plenty of trees to take cover from downpours.

During the first heavy rain of the season all of the horses except for Touchy made their way to the shelter of the barn.  Touchy is our 30 year old who only has one eye and the sight in that eye is probably only about 50%.  She relies on her memory of where everything is to find her way.  Abi has been a wonderful leader for our little herd.  She rarely ever lets Touchy out of her sight.  She protects Touchy in a way that only a good leader would do.  On this occasion though, Abi left Touchy behind.  That was very odd of her to do so.  As the rain continued to fall, the creek began to rise.

Touchy, on the pasture side of the overflowing creek

As  the water overflowed the banks, Terry went out to get Touchy.  We needed to get her on the barn side of the creek before she got stranded over there all alone.  Terry called her name and she perked her ears up.  He called again and she followed the sound of his voice.  She soon came to the place where they cross the creek.

Terry continued to talk to her, to let her know where he was.  She did not hesitate to cross the rushing water that had risen quite high.  The current took her a little off course, but with Terry talking to her the entire time, she changed her direction and came straight to him.  The rain continued for days.  The barnyard became a huge muddy mess as the horses had very few places to go.  We opened up the small paddock above the barn so they could graze and have some room to roam.

When the flood waters finally subsided enough for the horses to cross to the pasture side of the creek again, we coaxed them over with hay.  We knew they would be happier on the pasture side, with the new spring grass growing and much more room to run and play.  Being cooped up on the barn side of the creek was wearing on them all.  They needed their space.  So we took some hay over to the pasture.  We walked across our ‘foot bridge’ to get to the other side.  Ember was the first one to brave crossing the creek that was still quite high.

Ember crossing the swollen creek

Ember finding her footing to get to the other side of the creek

Image and Lady Gray

Image, as he crosses the creek

Lady Gray follows Image's lead across the creek

Once on the other side of the creek, the horses enjoy some hay that we put out for them.  I was proud of all of them for facing the rushing rapids of the creek water to get to the other side.  Image, Ember and Lady Gray had never seen, let alone crossed, rushing water such as this.  They all handled it quite well.

Ember and Abi

Ember

As the horses enjoyed the hay, the sun finally came out.  I think we only had about 2 days of sunshine until it started to rain again.  Once again, the rain water overflowed the banks of the creek.  Only this time it was much worse.  Thankfully all of the horses stayed on the pasture side of the creek.  The grass was growing quickly now, so there was plenty of grazing.  As long as they were all together, we were not worried about them being over there.  They had plenty of water and grass.  And we were still able to carry hay over to them.

Our 'foot bridge' started to float as the creek water floods the pasture

Sadly, the family of foxes didn’t fare as well.  Their network of dens runs along the creek banks.  We watched as Momma fox rescued 4 of the 6 kits from the den and moved them to a different location.

Momma fox taking her young to a new location

She came back time and again searching for her 2 youngest.

Momma fox frantically searching for her young

Momma fox

We fear the flood waters were just too much for the 2 smallest of her litter.  It was interesting to watch the change in her behavior as she went from ‘search and rescue’ mode to ‘survival’ mode.  After an hour and a half of searching each den over and over again for her youngest, she switched gears and began unearthing every bit of food she had cached near her den, taking it to her new location.

My photography blind under water

Momma fox looking for the food she had hidden away

Momma fox taking her cache of food to her new location on higher ground

It was difficult to stand back and watch this happen without interfering and trying to help her.  I kept telling myself that this is what natural selection is all about.  It didn’t make it any easier as I watched Momma fox search in vain for her missing little ones…..

Since the flooding, our sightings of the fox family have been few.  The remaining young will visit our pastures occasionally, but only to stay for an hour or so.

As April faded into May, the ground began to slowly dry.  May held it’s own showers of rain, but thankfully it was not as much as April.

Image is still infatuated by Lady Gray.  She will tolerate his advances for a little while and then she tells him to back off.

Lady Gray and Image

Image, Ember and Abi grazing in the rain

Ember and Image running

Ember and Image running to me

To what did my wondering eyes appear, but the fox den with three little Kits peeking out. They are so freakin’ cute!!!! About the size of a min-pin or 4 month old kitten, all ears and tails. They were curious and observing us as much as we were them. I kept my distance (about 20 feet) and stayed on the path, as I didn’t want to scare them – and the girls were vibrating at the sight. But they were good and stayed in their sit. This is the very reason I bring my camera on the walks now! I took some pics but they aren’t great. I was scanning the area looking for the mommy and spotted her off in the distance stalking us. HA! Now I get the phrase “sly like a fox!” She was hidden in the tall grass and her eyes were  following us as we made our way past.

The fox den in the Experimental Farm with the three little Kits!

The kids were so excited!  Who knows what they would see, what we might bring home!  They talked about it non-stop on our drive.

“A calf,” said Will.

“A dairy calf might be an idea, but we already have feeder calves coming.” I said.

“A pony!” cried Grace.

“We’ll look.” I promised.

“A goat?” asked Will.

“Maybe.” I had to think about that one, so many breeds to choose from.

“Chickens?” he tried.

“Well, we have 103 birds in the brooder right now and 25 more coming in a couple of weeks and 2 hens sitting.  I think we are good on poultry and fowl.” however, I do have a weakness for chickens, I thought to myself.

“A llama!” shouted Autumn, of course it sounded more like “Aw Wamama!”

“Nope, your dad would have a fit.  He said, no llamas, no ducks.”

“Awwwwe,” came the collective whine from the back, even Wyatt joined in.

We made the turn onto the lane to the auction barn.  Hmm, it looked kind of empty.  From the craigslist ad I had envisioned, rows and rows of vendors, a hillside crawling with Amish people looking like black ants swarming, small farmers like myself looking to expand their flocks or find a new venture.  What I saw was one truck and trailer, four or five small pickups and cars and one very dilapidated looking van.  It was five till the opening hour and there was only one table with wares, a table outside of the horse trailer with a small dog crate and what appeared from a distance to be baby goats, a woman unloading a small array of chickens, and that was it.

Oh well, we were here.  We waited for my brother and sister-in-law and their children to arrive, they pulled in about 5 minutes later, thank goodness, I thought my children were going to explode with curiosity.

We unloaded the children, 8 in all, 4 from each family ranging in ages from 11 to 15 months.  First we walked to the horse trailer and truck outfit.  They looked the most promising from a distance, and Grace was pulling me by the fingers begging me to move faster.  I knew she was hoping that the horse trailer meant ponies.  But, alas, the horse trailer was filled with tack.  Saddles, bridles, baseball hats emblazoned with cowgirl up in glittery pink rhinestones, they had used ranch ropes, an old reel mower and two dog carriers with pygmy goats.

The kids loved the goats.  Honestly, how can you not love a kid goat? And these were pygmies, which meant they were small enough any one of my children could have packed one around. “They would make a great pet.  Better than a dog,” the man was trying to convince me, afterall, his brother had one in his backyard in Toledo.  I can just see it now, Paris Hilton is going to be packing around a pygmy goat in a pink Coach bag, they will be the next pot-bellied pig craze.  Unfortunately, for now, I can only invest in livestock with a purpose, I do not have the money, time, or energy for pets. Yet.

We turned to walk down the next aisle of vendors, yes, all 7 people there had somehow managed to assemble themselves into multiple aisles.  The first place made me cringe. Puppy mill puppies.  Chihuahuas, Dachshunds, Yorkshire Mixes,  all sitting in cages on top of folding tables.  There were no papers, shavings, not even a towel to catch the pee that was running off the table and onto the shoes of anyone standing too close.  The kids loved the puppies, they squealed with delight, even Wyatt kept grunting, “dog, dog”.  I asked how much for a little Yorkie cross who looked like Benji, she said “$200″ and I almost laughed out loud.  I moved the children around to the other table to look at the Dachshunds.  One of my nephews asked, “Why is that one all wet?”, and the man responded, “Awe, he’s sweatin’ all over cause he’s sick.”  Ok, that was enough for me, “Kids, let’s go look at those chickens over there.”  What I wanted to do was buy up every one of those dogs and get them in good loving homes ASAP.  If the price had been $50 we would have been cuddling that poor little Benji puppy all the way home.

Our next stop was by far the most favorable moment of the morning.  The woman we met next had brought “frizzles”.  They were a cross between a pure frizzle and an Aracauna rooster and their feathers all curled up and away from their bodies on the ends.  They were adorable!  Some even had fuzzy little beards below their beaks where the feathers were short and downy.  She had all ages, chicks a few days old, a few weeks, pullets and year old hens.  My brother-in-law bought the hens.

She also had a little tupperware container of guinea chicks.  Will pointed to them and said, “You have guineas too?”  She beamed at him, “why yes I do!  How did you know those were guineas?”  ”We have 15 just like those brown ones.”  Autumn started yelling, “Heavens, heavens, heavens!”  I’m sure people thought she was having some sort of religious experience. The chicken lady just thought she was a kindred spirit.  Ahh chickens, those quirky birds can bring the quirkiest of people together in harmony.

As we were talking with Ms. Frizzle (isn’t that an apt name for her?) a truck and homemade chicken trailer pulled in beside her.  This homemade chicken trailer consisted of 3 rows of wire cages all strapped together and divided into several compartments, each filled to capacity with chickens of all ages, breeds, and on the other side we found a few ducks too.  Now, Ms. Frizzle’s chickens looked pampered and well-cared for, they were clean, healthy and she obviously doted on them.  The chicken trailer, well, that was the puppy mill of chickens and fowl.  One duck was actually bleeding profusely.  At this point I have to question what I expected to find at a swap meet for animals.

I wish I could say that was the end of the disturbing conditions we observed that day, but across the aisle were two jersey calves, very new calves (I’m fairly certain one still had remnants of the umbilical cord) and 3 goats corralled in a pen with barely enough room for one calf let alone a farmyard of calves and goats.  I paused here as well, wondering how long I could keep a bottle fed dairy calf in my house. I was mentally calculating the number of days it might be until we closed on the farm and could move him into the barn while Autumn held her hand out and the calf stretched his long grey tongue out and licked her gently, she giggled and looked up at me with eyes that were brimming with wonder and joy.  And now you are probably expecting to hear that I bought the calf and it is currently sitting beside me in the kitchen enjoying his bottle and I my coffee.  I wish.  The calf, however, did not look well, and without a secure barn or fence, I just didn’t want to bring home what might turn into a large vet bill when my farm budget for the month was already being pushed to it’s limit by the broilers who just won’t. stop. eating.

And that was it. Or so I thought.  All of a sudden a man appeared, who placed himself between the two chicken vendors, and began unloading fox kits, and coyote pups.  That’s right folks, fox kits and coyote pups.  Does the irony of this strike anyone?  Fox kits and coyote pups placed smack down in the middle of what must look to them like a vegas buffet. Immediately the fox kits began climbing the walls of their enclosure.  For those of you with chickens, turkeys, or poultry or fowl of any kind, you had best invest in an electric fence, because a fox is a proficient climber.  One fox had a large patch of fur missing and two nasty looking scratches that looked to be healing.  I’m still not sure why this man, and the puppy people would bring sick or injured animals to sell?  Especially, if you are asking hundreds of dollars, whatever happened to basic marketing skills?

And that was that.  I loaded my kids back into the truck, the girls were crying about wanting a goat, Will was upset about leaving his cousins and Wyatt was just ticked off that he hadn’t gotten the chance to run around anywhere.  I was disappointed that there wasn’t more.  More animals, more vendors, more variety, more care.  I suppose I should look on the bright side of things, I’ve stuck to my budget and I didn’t impulse buy every animal I would have liked to have saved today. However I am leaving with the same feeling I have when I leave the zoo, it was interesting and amazing to see some of these animals, afterall I’ve never had the chance to see a coyote pup, but the conditions of their confinement and their treatment in some cases leaves me feeling a little guilty for having even been there.

Perhaps I’ll head back tomorrow with a truck and trailer and haul home a menagerie of animals.  My budget will be blown but my conscience may be saved.

Meet "Jack" ... who is probably "Jackie" actually

Jack(ie) is super friendly!

Just hangin' out

Also, Justin Bieber is starting to freak me out. Perhaps it’s because I spent a week sleeping like a few feet from giant JBiebz mugshots?

THE WALL OF BIEBZ

Here’s what I saw:

(Note: you can click on any image to get a very large one you can download if you wish.)

At first, I couldn’t tell what kind of animal might be sleeping there. It certainly was a fairly large animal, but all I could see was a ball of fur. So, I called out, and it lifted up its head to listen. It was a gray fox!

I was really excited! This was my first fox sighting since I had moved West, and my first large predator sighting in the Berkeley Hills. In the East, the red fox is dominant, and I had seen a number of those in my time there, but never a gray fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus).  The fox never stood up so I could see more of it, but here’s a close-up of it looking up when I made a noise:

Not a red fox

This beautiful animal is easily distinguishable from the red fox, which is indeed quite reddish and has those characteristic “black stockings” on its feet.

A tree-climbing fox!

One of the things that surprised me about the gray fox was how high in the fallen tree it was, and how inaccessible it was. How the heck did it get up there? When I did some research, I came upon this fact at Wikipedia:

“The gray fox’s ability to climb trees is shared only with the Asian raccoon dog among canids. Its strong, hooked claws allow it to scramble up trees to escape predators such as the domestic dog or the coyote, or to reach tree-bound or arboreal food sources. It descends primarily by jumping from branch to branch, or by descending slowly backwards as a house cat.”

So, that explained it! The gray fox is a tree climber! I had no idea any fox could climb a tree. I watched the fox for about 10 minutes, and it seemed hunkered down for a good sleep. (The gray fox is mainly nocturnal though it’s also out at dawn or dusk.)

A Berkeley mountain-man hippie

As I was watching the fox, along came a fellow which I could only describe as a Berkeley “character.” He was dressed like a mountain-man hippie, with long hair in a ponytail and a big beard. As he approached, I asked him if he wanted to see a fox, and of course, he said yes. (I now wished I’d taken the fellow’s picture, as you’ll soon understand.)

As he admired the fox, he told me about encounters he’d had with foxes and how much he admired them. Then he said, “You want to hear a really great fox story? It’s a true one; it happened to an old girlfriend of mine.”

He sat down like he was an old friend and went on to tell his remarkable story.  The man was clearly a natural-born storyteller, but the way he  told his story had the ring of truth. As best as I can remember, here’s what he said:

A true story about a wise mother fox

“It happened in Colorado, up in the mountains where my girlfriend lived. One day she went out to her back porch, and she saw a gray fox standing, holding up a hurt leg. The fox didn’t run away when she saw it, even though it was close, but sat there, expectant like.”

“After the fox and my girlfriend sized each other up for a while, the fox then stood up, and turned to limp away. But it stopped and looked over its shoulder as if to say, ‘Well, are you coming?’

“So, my girl friend got her coat, and followed. The foxes leg was badly hurt, but it could still outpace my girl friend through the scrub brush. But each time she fell behind the fox would stop and patiently wait for her to catch up. As soon as she caught up, the fox moved on.”

A surprise in the woods

“To her surprise, the fox led her directly to a litter of fox kits, three of them. It was a mother fox, and the wounded fox had led her right to her den. The fox sat down at some distance, and watched, as if to say, ‘Well, there they are! I’m hurt and I want you to take them back with you and take care of them.’”

“The fox watched intently while my girl friend gathered up the kits and then followed her back to house. My girlfriend made a place for them near her house, where they’d be safe. The mother fox seemed satisfied, and then again, she looked at my girlfriend and seemed to say, “Well, can’t you see that they’re hungry? I haven’t been able hunt.”

“My girlfriend went inside and got some milk, which she gave to the pups. And then she got some meat, and threw it to the mother, who gobbled it down. After a while, the mother fox came over to the kits, and with a sigh, lay down with them.”

A refuge for a wounded mother fox

“And that’s the way it went. For 3 months, my girlfriend fed the fox while its leg mended, and soon, the mother was strong enough to give her own milk again. My girlfriend played with the kits everyday, and the mother never minded, although she always kept her distance.”

“The thee kits grew up fast, got teeth, and started to forage around themselves, though they always welcomed food from my girlfriend. And then one day, it was clear that the mother fox was going to leave. Although she trusted my girlfriend, she was obviously nervous being near humans.”

“One morning, my girlfriend came out, and the mother and kits were gone. She cried, and really missed them, but she knew that the wise mother had done the right thing.”

A final goodbye and thank-you

“Months later, in the late fall, with the first early snow, my girlfriend was out hiking, and suddenly, she saw a fox. Was it her fox? She stopped, and watched as the fox came to her—with a slight limp! It was the mother fox!  The fox came very close, and for  a long time, she  just sat there and looked into my girlfriend’s eyes, which were filled with tears. She said she felt the fox was thanking her. And then, the fox turned tail, and trotted off, with the slight limp from the old injury.”

“My girlfriend never saw the mother fox again, but did see other foxes from time to time, and she wondered if any of them were the kits grown up. Actually, she was glad the kits had ‘gone wild’ and were wary of humans. That was the safest thing for them so near to humans with guns. But to this day, she has a special love for foxes, and often thinks of the wise mother fox who came to her for help.”

“And that, my friend, is a true story. There’s more to animals than meets the eyes, eh?”

I agreed that indeed there is, and said good-bye to my mountain-man hippie storyteller.  I watched him lumber off, amazed at how often people can amaze you with their hidden depths.  Then, I turned and watched the gray fox sleeping for a while longer, thinking about the wise injured mother fox.

From all I know about animals, and from my own experiences with wounded animals over the years, I bet it happened just as my storyteller said. With that happy thought, and with a big love for my storyteller, for that sleeping fox, and for all the creatures in the canyon, I headed up the trail and into the hills.

A postscript: If this story of the mother fox moved you, you might also enjoy another true story of some amazing animals at my Metta Refuge blog.  The post is called The Compassion of the Swans.  You can read it here:

http://mettarefuge.wordpress.com/2009/12/08/the-compassion-of-the-swans/

♥♥♥

This is a really sweet, as opposed to controversial, cute animal story.  A mama fox was found to be behind a rash of shoe thefts in Föhren, Germany.  The authorities theorized that she took the shoes as playthings for her kits.  What a good mama, making sure her babies are entertained.  It seems she is continuing her thieving ways, even after her discovery.  You have got to keep those kids busy.  Here is the story for your consideration.

Shoe-Stealing Fox is Busted! Over 100 Shoes Discovered in Den

by Helena Sung Jun 17th 2009 12:00PM

“Mmmmm, I’d look fabulous in those Manolos!” Photo: ahisgett/Flickr

She’s a vixen with a shoe fetish.A female fox has been identified as the perpetrator of a year-long shoe-stealing scheme in the idyllic town of Föhren in the hills of western Germany. For months, residents had been noticing that their slippers, boots, and sneakers were mysteriously disappearing from their doorsteps and back porches.

The case was cracked when a forestry worker stumbled upon an astonishing scene in the woods: dozens of shoes lay strewn on the forest floor surrounding a fox’s den. Even more were discovered inside!