Fixing the Fox
- may I help you, Sir?
Where I live there are standard noises as well as places which are reasonably pleasant, while others create a living improvised cacophony. When absorbed, these give my outlook several different options to consider. Overall, it’s a rich mix.
Looking East out of my window each morning I see the long, busy lines of very tall trees, muffling some of the noise made by the busy road beyond; and if the day is bright, it shines so warmly into my window that it heats the room.
Nearer to me and looking back at me a small line of cars is parked. Some cars are owned by neighbours that I recognise, others I’ve seen quite a few times, now parked for the day by the recognisable who-knows. These on-off spaces mostly work Mondays to Saturdays, after which they empty out leaving the space quiet in the evenings, even quiet on Sundays. Halleluyah!
The well-ordered Green centre of the town about 2 minutes away is often used for events over the year. In summer it’s loaded for ‘youngsters fun’ while ‘regular grown up people’ enjoy their drinks outside on tables.
Later in the year, with drums and seriousness the two-minute silence is observed at exactly 11:00am on the 11th Month - Remembrance Day. The Victorian-style statues remain in decent order after refurbs, the locals paying regular, sincere honour to the remains of WW2.
In 1941, guns were firing night after night, fending off the deadly Heinkel He 111 and Junkers Ju 88 bombs as they tried to remove British aircraft and the pilots in them. Odd shrapnel pieces are still found in mud to this day. At the same time, my ancestors were dealing with the same intense bombing in Croydon. During the Second World War the airport was named RAF Croydon as its role changed to that of a fighter airfield during the Battle of Britain. While it was also being battered, my Grandmother was driving ambulances and Grandfather fixing wires, restoring function to telephones.
Surrey County is a part of one of England’s most lush places, rich in land and wealthy living quarters. The way is clear for us all to see animals and birds of all kinds, and perhaps your friends.
Living around here, detached from the sky are but a few rows of houses, inhabitants mostly Cats, Dogs, Squirrels, Bats, Bees, and Horses - who of course will always say thank you kindly on the road; and last, but not least - people who can see into other people’s gardens. Then there are birds and animals who live in your garden.
All I have to do is look out over our garden to see living trees and many, many birds - Pigeons, Wood Pigeons, Turtle Doves, Collared Doves, Magpies, Sparrows, Jackdaws, Crows, Robins, Wrens, GoldCrests, CoalTits, Ring-Necked Parakeets, and more. Occasionally Red Kites hover us above at great height. If they get anywhere nearby, they usually get aggressively mobbed by energetic groups of birds, protecting their offspring, and us as bystanders.
Foxes are animals I’ve always been interested in, because they are savvy and avoid being killed just because they are foxes. However, I am now living next door to them, it’s a different scene. There is one locally in particular who is a gifted usurper with all the skills any skilful crook has. This fox knows how to enter the garden and use it for his luxury needs, so I have removed many of it’s very visual calling cards, thinking it would get the message. Nope, it goes as it needs. Thinking that it might need food - it leaves half-empty plastic bags scattered everywhere - I left some it could eat. It didn’t touch it, so I cleared it up again, and thought again about what to do.
I live with Poppy the Cat, and we love and encourage one other. She isn’t a spiteful creature, but she does have a developed conscience.
Where we used to live the chaos was much more built up, with lots of noise. If we came out, turned left then left again, with one kind lift we could get all the way to Brighton, and it was tempting.
Standard motions: Poppy would exit the bedroom window first thing in the morning and use the exalted high facility to observe all the goings on before deciding where she would go next. She can be tough yet mostly she was peaceful. She would chase out creatures she deemed not for us, including other cats, dogs, and foxes. She has changed since - this is not what we knew before we arrived.
Two up, two down is how my habitual structure is now ordered. The lower flats have direct access to the garden, stepping out into the back garden whenever the will tells them, but they can’t see over the gardens around us as we Upper Levelists can, unless we invite them up, or if they have ladders to hand, which they don’t have. I have them.
My abode with the Upper Levellers here grants me subtle but genuine benefits where I can see people coming and going, be they indoors or outdoors. Mostly it is the gift of hearing things before I see them. Opposite me on the other side of the staircase is a friendly and hard working man. He parks up his long van, along with other vehicle-owners who do the same but shorter with their vehicles. What makes my friend different is that he had a long white strip painted and added adjacent to the entrance to our building, preventing people who don’t live here from using our parking places. It helps if you know people who have those 100% skills.
The two dwellings downstairs are different, not just in the people who happen to own or rent them. When I arrived here, two very different men were living here. John bought his place in the late 90’s as soon as the building went up for purchase, and thereafter he lived with his physical challenges, finding it increasingly more difficult to get through life even on his very fast mobility motor; nonetheless, he remained full of his intellect, knowledge and wit. He gave Poppy a gift of cat food when he met us, and we were invited in.
He left us a couple of years ago to the sadness of his many and various friends. When he got to the hospital, he asked the nurses to turn the bright lights down so he could leave now. They did it, and so he did.
The other man of abode, Mr. Ripple was also quite old, but completely different. He was a loner, renting, whose dementia was easily noticed once you had a few chats. I used to help him get his TV to work, to remind him where his car was (when he sold it he immediately asked me if I knew where it was), got him cough mixture and reminded him to take some when he woke up coughing so loudly, because everyone was awake at 5am. He thanked me (he didn’t need to), still forgot, everyone still woke up. In the end this rented flat was overhauled and sold. Sadly, Ripple won’t know where he is now.
For two different reasons, over the past year the two downstairs flats each became inhabited by two intelligent women, both living with animals, one with a dog, the other with rabbits.
I admit my bias, but Poppy Cat is the boss of her garden. She goes around the tall fences, and takes herself to the places she prefers.
I walk past my kitchen from the occasionally noisy front to the room where I look west, a very changing outlook displaying many different vistas in the gardens to the sides and in front. On this tableau the vanities of changing skies disguise themselves, as do the the hidden tops of the hill just over the way. These can be peaceful from dawn to dusk, or drizzle to rain to thunder and hail when they explode, unpredictably testy as trees thrash around.
Despite national absurdities, it’s a relatively pleasant place with a garden which I enjoy and actively improve.
I made new friends here and invited old friends to come and visit, perhaps enjoying India Dining, followed by walking the Ale Green miles followed by walking to Sanderstead Pond via the beautiful Kings Wood nature reserve.
And what of the Foxes? I really used to enjoy them, now have been harangued by them. I want to enjoy them. Recently I noticed that the Fox was still around, when all the “food” ready for connection on a Tuesday morning for recycle had been slopped everyware under the cars and vans. And then I had an idea. I would create a Fox Dip. I have left it for a week. I thought I’d go high - Waitrose tea. What could be better? Someone has been at it, yet it has not been vandalised.
Someone smaller than a fox is enjoying it. Or maybe it’s a baby fox. Or a bird.
The following images were logged over 48 hours.
UPDATE: The white image, low in picture & to the right, is Catsan Hygiene Plus (used by Poppy Cat) - here disguising the addition of Fox Scat, most probably provided from the same local fox as has been done before now. While the apple was eaten and the tea boxes opened, my opinion is that these offerings did not meet Fox approval.
Your thoughts welcome.
Love this piece. Poppy is lovely, and cool.