"I Promised"...

.....I would put a photo on here of my dear little "Foxie"- he's not very old here and I was almost 12- yes, a real fox - even accepted, eventually, by my Mum and Dad as a tiny, tiny little fellow - although at first, there was Horror in the household for a time when we brought him home from a neighbour on our pushbikes wrapped in a rag and stuffed into my brother's shirt.
We promised if we stayed home from going to "the pictures" for many weeks - could we pleeeease have this dear little baby fox? We had quite a few farm dogs, but this little one was much different., our farm dogs usually arrived as adult dogs.

Ofcourse our parents relented and we accepted our part of the bargain - (it was a sacrifice because "Tarzan" was on the next week too!") - but we discovered to keep a baby fox it is a little different than keeping a normal doggie.

He did love us though - bit us to bits ofcourse but that was the only way he could respond to attention given..he had to have a bath every couple of days as foxes smell ofcourse, and so, we'd shampoo him with Mum's new cake of Velvet soap in the laundry outside, and he didn't mind, then dried him off and put him into a basket and hung him on the line.
He was happy up there on the line, foxes like to climb trees so we thought he'd dry pretty much quicker up there anyway, and so he stayed in his basket until one day he jumped out and then other plans had to be made, mostly mine...a scrub in the tub outside, and then a run around the yard after us, just like a puppy.

Foxie, so loveable and cute, eventually played cricket with us as I've mentioned earlier, (at the age you see him here) - and he used to sit on the sidelines and wait for the ball, watching, waiting and then run flat out with it in his mouth out into the stubble paddock with us after him and we'd wrestle him for the ball, and then back again he'd trot with us, for another ball - after all, that ball was his...
And all the time Foxie was growing up, and eventually, he had to have a collar and be chained up, at night, in our big garage which at that time, didn't have a concrete floor as our home buildings were only new.
And one stormy night Foxie dug right under the foundations of the garage and came out on the other side to where the CHOOK PEN was - and cleaned up a few free ranging hens in one foul sweep - as they say - by the evidence left behind!
Feathers everywhere and Foxie was not popular at all for a while.
During the day, he was protected from the farm dogs by our high concrete back garden fence and he roamed freely there in the yard, well fed, (but watching the aviary) - and as happy as any other dog to see us when we came home from school. He would come up to us for a pat and then a fun wrestle., and a scamper around the yard...
When I went away to College just after this photo was taken, Mum and Dad looked after him for a while then Mum wrote to me to tell me that one night, one of the neighbours saw Foxie in their paddock and shot him - but - later on, Mum told me that she shot him (she was a good shot) as he kept getting out but coming back to our farm later..and she told the neighbour if it happened again "she'd deal with him" - and so she did.
But little Foxie we loved, but we realized wild animals even though we'd tamed him, were meant to roam free - but not at lambing time... We have our memories though of a sweet little dog - who taught us a lot about life. I know Mum even missed him..not sure about Dad, the farmer...I know he had to calm a few of the farm agents down who came to the back gate!!! And we realized as well, if he had have been set free, he possibly would not have lived for very long....