No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
My spouse has long had this quest to turn our yard into a natural New England habitat. The best part of this is that the natural habitat keeps the lawn part to a minimum, manageable with a human-powered motor. Next, she insists on doing the mowing. I gave up with an appropriate struggle. It's still an unequal division of labour: I can't persuade her to take up exterior painting, roofing, carpentry or masonry.
A few years ago, she began to nurture genuine New England back lot brush piles. We have what passes for a large lot in this town, so we have room for such luxuries, along with a small barn and a couple of sheds. The previous owner did the junk car part of the habitat to perfection, and I haven't had the nerve to suggest that our own '65 Dart on blocks, or a rusty tractor, would complete the picture.
The habitat duly began to attract flora--in the form of native plants moving back in--and fauna, ranging from a pleasing variety of bird life, lots of squirrels, the occasional skunk and possum, and numerous woodchucks. It amazed me that all these critters could make a living in a densely-populated suburb. When the woodchucks arrived, my wife was thrilled.
She forgot the part of nature that says, "when you create habitat for prey, you create opportunities for predators."
Enter the fox: I should say, the Fox family. We now have Ms. Fox and, I believe, five kits, all making a living in our neighbourhood. Close observation suggests the foxes are all quite normal and healthy, but there's motivation to keeping cats and smaller dogs indoors. (A large cat or small dog could probably hold off a fox, but not without being badly damaged. To mess with a fox you need something at least the size of, say, a foxhound.)
Today, Wild Kingdom arrived at our doorstep. My spouse arrived home from work to surprise the fox at dinner on our neighbour's lawn. Dinner was one of the woodchucks. After we broke off a prolonged staring contest, the fox finally got a firm grip on the remainder of the woodchuck and slipped off someplace quiet in our natural New England habitat. That's a big kill for a fox. Ms Fox and kits could den up and eat for a couple of days, or just stash the kill until it's good and ripe. The same neighbour keeps an open compost heap. The indications are that the foxes enjoy vegetables or salad with their entree, dug from the compost heap.
As long as we can maintain a buffer zone and keep off the Myopia Hunt Club in full panoply, I'll watch the show with interest.
A few years ago, she began to nurture genuine New England back lot brush piles. We have what passes for a large lot in this town, so we have room for such luxuries, along with a small barn and a couple of sheds. The previous owner did the junk car part of the habitat to perfection, and I haven't had the nerve to suggest that our own '65 Dart on blocks, or a rusty tractor, would complete the picture.
The habitat duly began to attract flora--in the form of native plants moving back in--and fauna, ranging from a pleasing variety of bird life, lots of squirrels, the occasional skunk and possum, and numerous woodchucks. It amazed me that all these critters could make a living in a densely-populated suburb. When the woodchucks arrived, my wife was thrilled.
She forgot the part of nature that says, "when you create habitat for prey, you create opportunities for predators."
Enter the fox: I should say, the Fox family. We now have Ms. Fox and, I believe, five kits, all making a living in our neighbourhood. Close observation suggests the foxes are all quite normal and healthy, but there's motivation to keeping cats and smaller dogs indoors. (A large cat or small dog could probably hold off a fox, but not without being badly damaged. To mess with a fox you need something at least the size of, say, a foxhound.)
Today, Wild Kingdom arrived at our doorstep. My spouse arrived home from work to surprise the fox at dinner on our neighbour's lawn. Dinner was one of the woodchucks. After we broke off a prolonged staring contest, the fox finally got a firm grip on the remainder of the woodchuck and slipped off someplace quiet in our natural New England habitat. That's a big kill for a fox. Ms Fox and kits could den up and eat for a couple of days, or just stash the kill until it's good and ripe. The same neighbour keeps an open compost heap. The indications are that the foxes enjoy vegetables or salad with their entree, dug from the compost heap.
As long as we can maintain a buffer zone and keep off the Myopia Hunt Club in full panoply, I'll watch the show with interest.
Labels: foxes, New England habitat gardens, wildlife
posted by Uncle | 23:32
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