Our dog, Roxy, is getting outfoxed.
This is not unusual, in and of itself. Roxy gets outsmarted a lot. Sometimes it's humans, sometimes cats, occasionally inanimate objects. Pretty much anything is smarter than Roxy.
But in this case, to her credit, she is being outfoxed by an actual fox.
This spring a family of foxes dug a den under one of the outbuildings on our property. This didn't bother me one bit. I like having foxes under the building because where there are foxes, there usually won't be skunks.
I really don't like having skunks around. Personally, I am not afraid of skunks. But I do have a healthy respect for them, and know better than to run up and challenge one to a fight.
Roxy is not quite so circumspect. She will quite happily charge right up to a skunk and take a snootful of skunk funk. And two days later, do it again. And two days after that. She has not quite grasped the concept of "skunk equals stink". It's best she doesn't spend much time around skunks.
So I wasn't at all disappointed that a pair of foxes set up housekeeping under the garage. They control the mouse population, make our property less attractive to unwanted other species, and you gotta give them credit for "cute points". They benefit greatly from what I call "the Fluffy Tail Effect".
Never heard of the Fluffy Tail Effect? It's one of Mother Nature's greatest tricks. Here's how it works: a few years ago a friend of mine went out to her shed and came face to face with - steel yourself - a rat. She screamed. Almost fainted. She was deeply traumatized and still sends her husband out to the shed when she needs something, three years after the last known rat has been dispatched to the great garbage pile in the sky.
Now. Put a big fluffy tail on that thing, call it a squirrel, and she's trying to get it to eat out of her hand. That's the fluffy tail effect. Rodents of identical size and appearance are separated into Good and Evil by way of a fluffy tail. Squirrels are just rats on the ritz, cashing in on a cheap cosmetic trick.
As much as I welcome the foxes, Roxy is far less impressed. She cannot stand the thought of squatters on her property, fluffy tails or not, and is keen to confront and evict them. The problem is, she isn't quite smart enough to figure out how.
Oh, she starts off fine. She bolts out the door and heads right for the den. But before she gets to it, she hears a tiny bark from out in the field. Her head snaps around and there, not 40 yards away, is a fox.
Roxy begins barking furiously and makes a beeline for the fox, which scampers away to the safety of a thicket of woods. Roxy stops, briefly contemplates continuing the chase, but then, her main job done and her property rid of the intruder, she turns back and heads for the den.
When she is almost all the way back, she hears it, from behind. Another tiny yip. She whirls around and there's that fox, again tantalizingly close, and Roxy gives chase. The fox bolts back for the safety of the woods and Roxy is foiled again.
So she comes back, and is almost all the way back across the field when she hears it again ... and dear Lord, this can go on for hours. In the end, Roxy doesn't even turn around when the fox yaps. She just walks back to the house with her tongue lolling out and collapses.
It's lovely to watch the fox protecting its den in this classic way, and comical to watch Roxy as the fox tricks her into merry chase after merry chase. I'm sure that somewhere in that walnut-sized brain she harbours the illusion that she has protected us from a serious threat, and we praise her to the sky for her efforts.
As for the fox, I almost get the sense that toying with Roxy breaks up the tedium on a dreary spring day. I can see him getting back to the den where his mate is nursing the kits.
"Hi, honey, I'm home."
"How was your day, dear?"
"Oh, pretty good. Fooled the dog again."
"Hardly even a challenge anymore, is it?"
"Well, no. But it makes the day fly by."
Meanwhile Roxy is sprawled in front of the toilet after a long drink, saying, "Next time. Next time, for sure."
I almost wish a skunk would happen along so the poor thing could catch something.
Almost.
Nils Ling's book "Truths and Half Truths" is a collection of some of his most memorable and hilarious columns. To order your copy, send a cheque or money order for $25.00 (taxes, postage and handling included) to RR #9, 747 Brackley Point Road, Charlottetown, PE, C1E 1Z3.
