I dunno, you wait for something foxy to come along...oh well, back to my playboy.
Another hard day at work then Dick..?
BTS: I might have scheduled it. ;-)
Thanks for that, and although I am not sentimental about foxes, I found the neighbouring video of the cubs playing in the garden perfectly charming.Back around 1930 my Dad, as a boy, had a pet fox which he raised from a cub, and still has a grainy snap of the beast under the kitchen table.Sad to report, the estate gamekeeper, despite knowing whose it was, shot the fox.My ancestor, even then made of stern stuff, stole Grandpa's .22 rifle, and stalked the keeper.Grandpa found the gun missing,put two and two together, recalled how he had hunted Germans on the Somme, and tracked down and disarmed the would-be killer, who remains faintly furious at being thwarted.The keeper would not have had a chance. Later, according to his training scores, Mein Papa was one of the RAF's best Lancaster gunners.
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