One of the things we enjoy most about living in Country Place are the wild animals. There is something very satisfying about watching a family of deer cross the road by our house, or admiring the variety of birds who show up at our feeders. John Vardeman and I were talking one morning recently about the two fox kits we’ve watched grow up this summer in the woods across the street. It’s been interesting to see them progress from clumsy attempts to catch field mice to serious hunters.
Yesterday morning as Kratos and I walked up to our house after our walk we were both startled by a loud bleating, like a kid goat caught in a barbed-wire fence, I remember thinking. Then we saw the big cottontail bounding in the tall grass across from our house, and right behind came one of the foxes in hot pursuit. To add to the drama, just as the rabbit passed the cedar tree a fawn jumped up and began running with the rabbit. After a moment the fawn came running back and proceeded to tear around a clearing two more times before disappearing into the woods.
We didn’t hear the rabbit again, and I’ve not gone down into the woods to see if there’s blood and fur on the ground. For some reason I’d like to think the rabbit found his den and escaped the fox, although I know there are plenty of rabbits and the fox has to eat. Better the rabbit than our cats, I reason.
