Catch Me If You Can...

When we lived in Bristol the urban fox population was numerous, cunning and fun. It was lovely to see them sunbathing on the garden sheds and flat roofs of South Bristol, and we forgave the occasional ripped black bin bag and their noisy evening lovemaking. 

Later, many of them fell prey to a nasty outbreak of mange, and numbers plummeted. When we moved to the countryside at the turn of the millenniennienniumnmnum (Happy Birthday PTerry) we thought we'd see more foxes, but of course the local landowners had hunted them almost to extinction and despite the law continue (allegedly) to do so. 

So on a walk around the docks and city centre it was delightful to see this scrawny begger racing past us. I of course had the camera on the wrong settings, so he's a tad blurry, but I thought the legwork in this shot was fantastic. 

We also bumped into Boris's sister, but we can't really get excited about that even if she's apparently a Remainer...