As we pulled into the driveway last night, Josh and I realized that we had an uninvited guest snooping around the guinea pen and front yard. The Red fox had returned to finish the job on our birds after the rainstorm. Josh threw the car into park and ran in the house with flip flops clapping on the wet pavement to get his gun but the fox was long gone. My Great White Hunter was bummed.
Inclement weather is ideal weather for a fox to go hunting. Most animals have bedded down and are unsuspecting. Nighttime inclement weather is even better. (I say this like I am an expert or something… Josh told me, ok?)
This morning, we awoke to a thick fog and Josh set up camp on the front porch with binos (that’s military-man speak for binoculars), rifle, coffee, and the Bible.
He’s going to protect his babies. Don’t worry chickens: Daddy’s home.
—————————–Update on the pesky fox battle————————–
Josh discovered that the hillside is the fox suburbs (a bedroom community of poultry-munchers) and began trap construction. He killed two of them this morning and is now after the rest. Yes, they have awakened the sleeping giant: Josh, the hunter/tracker/trapper. Beware the determined man. Testosterone abounds.