Fox play

The problem with living in a bungalow is that you're a bit too close to anything that happens at ground level outside the window, and that means fox activity. Last night, they were at it again, yipping and yakking and making those non-aggressive sounds that denote neither aggression nor mating activity. I dragged myself out of bed and peeped through the curtains and there were Olive and Kinky, her sister, playing a chase game round and round the car, under the van and out the other side, and even jumping up on the wheels and trying to get inside the wheel arch. That van is a great big playground toy to them and it was very funny watching them rushing and whirling and snapping at each other's tails as if to say, "Got you. You're it!"

I'm still trying to snatch a photo of the elusive Russet. I saw her sidling through the hedge but by the time I'd got my camera out, all I saw was the tip of her magnificent brush whisking between the bushes.