Spaceman wrote:
When I lived on the mainland I knew all about the urban fox.
He used to visit my garden most nights and crap on my lawn, my back
steps and all around my pond.
When I went pick a cabbage from the vegetable patch I would
discover
that the fox had peed on it and it stank to high heaven and had to
be
thrown away.
I used to be woken up during the night by packs of foxes running
down
my road, fighting and howling.
If I put a rubbish sack out for the dustmen it, and that of my
neighbours, would be ripped to pieces and the contents strewn
about.
The worst of all was at the chicken farm where I often spent
weekends. 22 hens in the broody pen, all with their heads bitten
off.
Yes, I support the urban fox, preferably by the neck.
Long live fox hunting.

The last urban fox I saw was trotting between the buildings at Bart's
Hospital: the local hunt don't seem to have been on the ball there.
Whom should I ring? I'd love to see a pack of hounds in full cry
through the streets of London: the tourists would love it, too.

I've never seen a pack of foxes, let alone one which ran down the
road fighting: that was quite a red-letter day for your naturalist's
diary. Did they really howl down your way? -- I thought that was
wolves. And they usually crap at particular places: your
indiscriminate shitter was an interesting case, so I hope you drew
the ethologists' attention to it. The scent-marking of each
individual cabbage may be unusual, too: I think we could have a
modest contribution to science here.

I only know about country foxes, of course; but my infuriated
observations suggest magpies and cats are often to blame for
depredations among the rubbish bags.

Biting the chicken's heads off? Yes, it's happened to mine, I'm
afraid; but only when it was my own fault. Ducks, too. It gets worse
when earths are stopped, and the foxes have to travel outside their
territory; but you know that.

Mike.