“Why not come and chat with me,”
said the Grasshopper,
“instead of toiling and moiling in that way?”
(read the rest of the story here)
Two foxes in my yard this morning. I was tipped off by the crows, who were screaming bloody murder. I mean, really very seriously screaming, to the point where I got out of bed and went outside (without my camera, alas) to see what all the fuss was about. And there they were.
If I had chickens, of course, I would be alarmed, but mostly I was in awe of how pretty and how orange they were. Bigger than I expected, too.
The cats were freaked out by the whole event- hey, the crows don’t care about the cats, is it because they’re used to them or because they’re not orange? Anyway, they are now all lined up, standing guard. Tails twitching, acting all bad, like they didn’t turn tail and slink into the house when the foxes came.
Daring them to come back:
“Hey, Mr. Fox, why don’t you come here and say that to my face? Huh?
Yeah, didn’t think so.”