Sibling Rivalry

Poor little Oliver. He's had our garden all to himself for weeks now, but suddenly one of his bigger, stronger siblings, the long-tailed fox that I call Kinky, has found out where he is getting fed and wants to claim the territory for itself. Tonight, Oliver, who is limping on his front right leg, had just hunkered down with a time-expired burger, when Kinky beat him up and snatched it off him. Luckily, all we have to do it wave our arms and Kinky runs away, the rotten coward. Oliver, being more intelligent, looks us in the eye and stands his ground. He knows we're trying to protect him and as soon as Kinky has raced through the hedge into next door, he cocks his head on one side, adopts his most appealing look, and waits to see what we're going to throw out next. Tonight, it was the remains of my veggie pasta. He licked off the tomato sauce (made from home-grown tomatoes), then tackled the spaghetti as if he was suddenly discovering Italian blood. Talk about style and expertise. A pluck, a suck, and it vanished one strand at a time.