A family of foxes have taken up residency somewhere on my property. Again.

They were here a few years ago when Eliot was still young.  He's nine now, so there's some idea of how long ago the foxes were last around.

However, the past few mornings, I've seen an adult fox in the backyard, before he or she disappeared into the lush Georgia foliage growing back there.  The cats are fascinated by its presence, sitting transfixed by the window and silently staring out - not meowing or crying like they do when they see another cat, but just staring in what I can only imagine is the feline version of awe. 

Things were a bit sadder this morning.  Walking out the front door toward my car, I startled a young fox kit.  It ran a few steps away, not far, and then stopped, unsure what to do next, and I could clearly see grievous bodily damage to its hindquarters.  It looks like something, probably a dog (there are coyotes in Atlanta, but I haven't heard their calls at night recently) must have bit it and bit it hard just above the rear legs.  There was matted blood on its fur, and I could only imagine the intense pain it must have been experiencing.  That, and the terror of being so vulnerable and then having a big simian (me) show up - it had no idea that I was probably the person least likely to do it any more harm.

I didn't know what to do for it.  I could try and catch it, but chasing would just make it run away and even if I did managed to catch it, it would probably bite me and I haven't had my rabies shot in a while.  I had nothing with which to try to trap it.  And then even it I did manage to trap it or catch it without getting bitten, what would I do then?  Take it to a vet?  Would a vet even treat it?  Take it to Animal Control or the dog pound?  Would they fix it up or just put it down?  Should I try to euthanize it myself and end its suffering?  Who was I to make that decision for that poor wounded animal?

I finally decided that the kindest thing I could do was just get in my car and drive away - that wouldn't heal its injuries but at least it would relieve the fox of the additional anxiety of having some random ape gawking at it in it's suffering and vulnerable state.  I could let it go off somewhere and die in peace, naturally, on its own, or possibly (dare I hope?) heal and prosper somewhere in the urban jungle of Atlanta.  So I got in my car and drove off.

I thought about the young fox while at work, but there was no sign of him when I got home, although (and this is probably unrelated) there was a dismembered squirrel's tail near my mailbox.  Not sure what that was about, but I'm not going to worry myself or lose any sleep over the survival potential of a tailless squirrel in the city when I have a fox to worry about.