Foxes (again)
 

Was clearing the boys' raised bed today and whilst weeding out a bunch of
onions and last year's potatoes that I had forgotten were there, I found ...
a chicken breast. (at least, I think it was chicken) It looked quite
fresh, although the soil was undisturbed, so it could have been there a
while and preserved by the cold, I guess.

Do foxes bury 'spare' food to come back to later? I've never found anything
like this before.

--

Foxes (again)
 

wrote in message
...
Was clearing the boys' raised bed today and whilst weeding out a bunch of
onions and last year's potatoes that I had forgotten were there, I found
...
a chicken breast. (at least, I think it was chicken) It looked quite
fresh, although the soil was undisturbed, so it could have been there a
while and preserved by the cold, I guess.

Do foxes bury 'spare' food to come back to later? I've never found
anything
like this before.

Yes, I once spiked two gammon ham steaks whilst digging my allotment and
often found duck eggs.
All looked fresh enough to eat.

--
Regards
Bob Hobden
W.of London. UK

Foxes (again)
 

Bob Hobden wrote:
Yes, I once spiked two gammon ham steaks whilst digging my allotment and
often found duck eggs.
All looked fresh enough to eat.

Strange that I've never noticed it before. But then, this is probably the
first time I've been out weeding since the local council introduced food
waste bins.

Incidentally, we now have fortnightly alternating collections of rubbish and
recycle with a weekly food waste collection ... and I'm sure I'm throwing
away a /lot/ more than I used to! I don't know if it's just time of year
and I'm clearing out a lot of tat that had been hanging around the house and
garden or what, but I seem to have gone from a small bin bag a week to a
full wheelie bin every 2 weeks! (And a half full food waste bin every week,
where I very rarely threw any food waste out previously!)
Most odd.

Foxes (again)
 

wrote in message
...
Was clearing the boys' raised bed today and whilst weeding out a bunch of
onions and last year's potatoes that I had forgotten were there, I found
...
a chicken breast. (at least, I think it was chicken) It looked quite
fresh, although the soil was undisturbed, so it could have been there a
while and preserved by the cold, I guess.

Do foxes bury 'spare' food to come back to later? I've never found
anything
like this before.

--
Yes, foxes do bury spare food, but how it came across a chicken breast (do
you mean a raw one, as bought in a supermarket?) has to be a mystery.
They will bury whole chickens if they've managed a killing spree and can
come back undisturbed to take them all away, but just a breast is odd
(unless they are being fed, they had enough to eat and someone else gave
them one) I can't think of another explanation.

Foxes (again)
 

Foxes (again)
 

Christina Websell wrote:
Yes, foxes do bury spare food, but how it came across a chicken breast (do
you mean a raw one, as bought in a supermarket?) has to be a mystery.

No, I think it was a cooked one that had been taken out of a bin/.

Foxes (again)
 

"Sacha" wrote in message
...
On 2010-02-08 01:11:58 +0000, "Christina Websell"
said:


wrote in message
...
Was clearing the boys' raised bed today and whilst weeding out a bunch
of
onions and last year's potatoes that I had forgotten were there, I found
...
a chicken breast. (at least, I think it was chicken) It looked quite
fresh, although the soil was undisturbed, so it could have been there a
while and preserved by the cold, I guess.

Do foxes bury 'spare' food to come back to later? I've never found
anything
like this before.

--
Yes, foxes do bury spare food, but how it came across a chicken breast
(do
you mean a raw one, as bought in a supermarket?) has to be a mystery.
They will bury whole chickens if they've managed a killing spree and can
come back undisturbed to take them all away, but just a breast is odd
(unless they are being fed, they had enough to eat and someone else gave
them one) I can't think of another explanation.

Thieving dog? ;-)
--

Nah, I had a thieving dog, my lurcher, Trim. She never recovered from her
mindset of having to live wild for a while just before I adopted her.
She would escape at every opportunity and go out stealing from dustbins and
I had to go out and find her. She would be as bloated as those lions you
see on TV that have just eaten a whole zebra.
She could eat the whole contents of my fridge in one go, eggs, margarine,
butter, lard, cheese, whatever was in there was in her stomach.
If she broke into the cupboard that had tins in, she would only choose tins
that had meat in to chew through to get to the contents.
She never made a mistake and opened a tin of peaches, how she did that I
will never know. To say that she was one of the most challenging dogs I
ever had would be an understatement:-)
She would never have buried anything that she could fit into her stomach,
even if it meant her stomach was so low to the ground she could hardly move.
Tina

Foxes (again)
 

"Janet Baraclough" wrote in message
...
The message
from "Christina Websell" contains these
words:

Nah, I had a thieving dog, my lurcher, Trim. She never recovered from
her
mindset of having to live wild for a while just before I adopted her.
She would escape at every opportunity and go out stealing from dustbins

I've heard similar stories many times of lurchers who are obsessive
thieves ; looks like you got a prime example :-)

Her finest hour was when she opened the pull-down oven door one Sunday while
the joint was cooking and I was out for half an hour.
She removed the joint and managed to leave the roasting tin still in
there;-)

Apart from her obsession with food, in all other ways she was a marvellous
dog. In appearance she looked like a smaller version of an Irish wolfhound,
about labrador size, ideal for reaching up on to the worktops.
Once I had lurcher-proofed my cupboards with suitcase latches, and drilled
through the top of my fridge door and the worktop above so I could drop a
long nail through, that stopped her gallop!
However, if she couldn't actually get to food after that, she'd have to find
things that had recently been "near" food. I would come home from work and
find my wooden spoons chewed up, and one day my food mixer was in her bed
with her at the side of it, grinning in that way they lift their lip up when
they know they shouldn't have done that.
She died aged 14 from liver cancer. I still miss her and would never have
wanted to miss the owning Trim experience.
She was very protective of me. She once bit a visitor who was a lurcher
expert and he knew all about them. I told him not to get up from the sofa
and come towards me or Trim might bite him. He said he didn't think she
would - I said she definitely would, but of course he knew more than I did.
So he got up from the sofa, wanting the bathroom, took two steps towards me
and she bit him on the thigh.
He was a lurcher man himself and agreed it was his own fault.
I loved that dog.
I can't keep it much on topic except she used to "help" me with gardening,
just in case she could get near the chickens and eat the layers pellets..

Tina

Foxes (again)
 

wrote in message
...
Was clearing the boys' raised bed today and whilst weeding out a bunch of
onions and last year's potatoes that I had forgotten were there, I found
...
a chicken breast. (at least, I think it was chicken) It looked quite
fresh, although the soil was undisturbed, so it could have been there a
while and preserved by the cold, I guess.

Do foxes bury 'spare' food to come back to later? I've never found
anything
like this before.

Some years ago when one of my neighbours decided to keep ducks, I was always
finding eggs buried in the garden, and the occasional half eaten duck.

The neighbours didn't keep them for long!



--

Foxes (again)
 

alan.holmes wrote:

Some years ago when one of my neighbours decided to keep ducks, I was always
finding eggs buried in the garden, and the occasional half eaten duck.

The neighbours didn't keep them for long!

I know what you mean.

My first steps in smallholding - 2 Khaki Campbells

http://www.girolle.co.uk/dux.jpg

That was 1946.

In the Great Winter of '46-'47, they refused to come in one night, and
all that remained the next morning was a trail of blood.

I was not a happy small ex-duckowner innit.

--
Rusty