Philoxenia
Mother fox and her kits are beginning to warm up to us, or at least tolerate us. I can walk outside and tinker in the garage without scaring them back into the den, as long as I don't make any sudden moves in their direction. So, I pushed the boundary a little more. I set up my tripod within a hundred feet of the den. Camouflaged by the heavy low-hanging branches of an old spruce, I hunkered down and waited. She eventually came out and stared right at me. Who was I kidding? She knew I was there, but in time, she decided I was merely odd and not dangerous. She signaled for the kits to come out, and out they came. It's always fun to watch this because they come stumbling out like circus clowns on coil springs. What a gift it is to share this space and these moments with a wild fox family.
Furthermore, it appears that I didn't give the father fox enough credit. He showed up at the den today, and he was acting very protective. He glared at Cinnamon, almost daring him to try something. The father is less willing to accept us than the mother. There he stood, the stoic guard fox, while his family lolled in the beautiful spring sunshine. And that's how it happened that no less than six foxes came to live with us.
