Tuesday, August 24, 2010


He smells something, Jerry said.

We watched Bandit zip from window to window with his snout raised, sniffing.

Maybe it's the fox again, Jerry said.

I wonder if it would come back, I answered.

Why wouldn't it?

Carolee dragged it out by its tail?


I had called animal control the other day to come encourage my little interloper to leave. If I had more time I would have opened the door and allowed the breeze and singing birds to beckon, but the dogs were restless upstairs and four eager noses were pressed against a sliding pocket door. With the right nudge it would start to open.


Carolee Mason walked in with the rugged gloves good for grabbing things with claws. We saw his little ringed foxy tail and she pulled gently and he fell toward us. One front paw tried to hold on, but he slipped from the crevice in the basement where he had wedged himself between wooden framing and the foundation stones. Dropping him to the floor he loped and scurried toward daylight and left the house. Rushing outside Carolee said, Aw, I thought he would turn to look back at us…


But you pulled his tail, I laughed. He was out and free.


I sat down at the computer to work one night and as always, Lily sniffed at the cats that had dropped in through the doggy door. I suspect that a previous night's set of eyes watching me belonged to the fox. Lily sniffed him, and no other dogs really bothered to come in. The next morning Lily was excited about something in the basement and when I tugged on her collar to pull her away from the cat, I realized it was a fox. His pale custard face and amber eyes watched me. He sat still with his darker front paws crossed. I urged Lily out of the room, then stuck my head in to look at him. Water.

He must be thirsty? I wanted him to like me and for some reason the name Henry filled my head. I went to get water for Henry.


Water in hand I crept back in and Henry and I stared. I placed the water a couple feet from his nose and kept my voice calm. I left the room to make a few calls about helping him out of the house. Without dogs to worry about I would have had no concern at all, but I think the dogs are the reason he showed up. When I looked for him again he had hidden.


Several days in a row I had been wondering what was digging and creating all the loose soil just outside the dog pen. I showed Jerry.


It looks like something digging on the outside, I said.

Bending to look at the bottom pieces of fencing, Jerry said that it looked bent inward.


For a few nights in a row the dogs were restless, more than their usual barking at deer moving noisily across dried leaves and debris on the forest floor.


Lily was running right toward the spot where I found the loosened soil.


Then Henry showed up.


What does this mean?


What I have read so far: As animal alchemy symbols, foxes are the cultivators of the Elixir of Life. They were also thought to be able to transform themselves into human form at night and visit the elderly, giving them sips of the mystical Elixir to prolong their life and health.


According to my household myth, foxes transform themselves into fence creepers, and slip inside the dog pen at night. They cross the weeds and ground, traipse down fieldstone steps, and hop in through the doggy door. They next find a cool place to hide in the basement, which smells even more beastly than the great outdoors.


Other things I have read: In many cultures, the fox appears in folklore as a symbol of cunning and trickery, or as a familiar animal possessed of magic powers.


Or, In Finnish mythology, the fox is depicted usually as a cunning trickster, but seldom evil. The fox, while weaker, in the end outsmarts both the evil and voracious wolf and the strong but not-so-cunning bear. It symbolizes the victory of intelligence over both malevolence and brute strength.


The list continues from culture to folklore to mythic belief, but I like to think that I was writing another fable for Aesop: The fox and the Ass who named him Henry. Or, the fox and the Ass carrying water. The Ass that saw the fox?


He worked hard to get inside. He sat quietly when he saw me and only crept away when I was out of the room. He visited despite the scent of four dogs, and likely repeated encounters with them through the fence before he entered.


Several months ago I came home from the bar to hear the fox barking its screeching little yelp. It was sitting a few feet away from the dog pen looking in as the dogs looked out.


Was he bringing comfort and thanks to me for helping Lily who was probably a familiar nocturnal presence in his woods until I found her, starved by disease and full of ticks. I run with the dogs in the same woods. He must know she is better. Foxes are not large animals, which I associate with power, but they are lithe, which makes me think their minds must be equally as nimble as they decide rapidly where they can safely land their next step.


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