This morning when I lumbered downstairs to get Orie, our mini dachshund, ready to go to work, I noticed Missy, our elderly cat in residence, sitting at full attention on the bay window sill staring at something in the yard. Now, this isn’t uncommon for Missy since she has plenty of time to sit and stare in her retirement, but the alert set to her ears told me something was up.
Sure enough, there was a fox curled up in a tight ball under our apple tree just a few feet away from the house. His tawny fur was wet as though he had just taken a dip in the tub and was drying off; in reality he probably had passed through the damp marsh behind our home and decided to take a nap before proceeding on his trek.
Missy finally noticed I was standing behind her and meowed at me. I wasn’t sure if it was a greeting or a warning until she hopped down to the floor and hissed at Stormy, our border collie who thankfully had no idea what was going on and simply just wanted to go out and play Frisbee.
Missy let out another hiss and meow as if to say, “Hey now, this is my fox. Keep your distance, you morons!” Then she hopped back up onto the sill to stare at her fox. She was probably thinking, “Man, that’s a big cat.”
Actually Missy, if she could speak English, would probably be able to tell me in great detail all about the fox family who lives near us although she typically does her observing from the safety of the solarium as they romp around on the deck playing tag. But I digress.
The fox’s black-tipped ears flickered occasionally and I wondered if he could hear us breathing in the house – I mean, after all, the experts say wild animals have a keen sense of hearing. As though he heard me thinking, he lifted his pointed little head and stared right at us. I say “pointed” because his nose is so trim it could possibly be used to get extra ketchup out of those stinkin’ hard-to-reach-to-the-bottom bottles I get so mad at. Anyway, I don’t think he saw us; otherwise I’m thinking he would’ve taken off. Instead, he curled up once again, his ears on constant patrol.
Well, I love watching wildlife, but I had to get to work (my sister gets postal if I’m late). The problem was getting Orie past the fox without a rumble. He loves to challenge anything bigger than he is. So, I turned the deadbolt on the door and, sure enough, the fox snapped to attention. He was quite a sight with his long, skinny black legs ready to scoot if need be. He sat quite still, waiting for the next sound. A potential breakfast, I’m sure he was hoping. But that’s all he did was sit there; so I unlocked the doorknob. With that he stood up – I was making headway.
Next I opened the door just a tad. That set him in motion. He hastily circled our forsythia, but instead of leaving, he marched right up the sidewalk, heading for the door – the door I needed to get through. He really thought breakfast was coming. Finally, I swung the door open to give him a good look at the beast making all the noise. He didn’t have to look twice. He swung around and gracefully trotted off, disappearing through the bushes on the other side of our driveway.
When I explained to Lorraine why we (Orie and myself) were late, she was okay with it. After all, our world stops for God’s little creatures so they can pass by unharmed.
