Olive the fox cub (don't think it's Oliver as it always squats rather than lifting its leg) is older and getting its full brush. It is still just as curious, and just as keen on begging for food. As I ate my lunch today, it sat fixing me with a wistful gaze until I shared my ham with it. I threw out the white cat biscuits that Flad hates and just as it was eating them, its mother the vixen hurled herself at it bit her progeny on the back, barged it aside and finished the biscuits herself. So much for maternal love. But I suppose this is the time of year when cubs are expected to scatter and find their own foraging round, and our garden has been the vixen's for the past couple of years. I don't think Olive is going to give it up in a hurry, though. She has it far too easy here.
Flad the cat ignores it. In fact, at one moment today he was on the bench and the fox cub was underneath it.
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