Bog Myrtle & Peat

After a lengthy search, we have found a major fox earth. Off in the farm’s extreme south westerly corner, two gravelly humps rise out of a dank and rushy bog. Sheep tracks lead back and forth through the wet ground, but the humps themselves are well drained and covered only in a carpet of short grass. A burn coils itself around their foundations, and, leading into the water amongst a tiny slip of scree, there are three holes. It has been thoughtfully concealed, but now the secret is out.

The holes are fiendishly smelly, and fresh earth has been scooped out over the last few days. As if I wasn’t already convinced of the fact that the site is being used, I was able to photograph the dog as he returned to his hole. He trotted along the burn side and paused for a moment before entering, gazing across the open country to perform a last check.

Identifying the earth is the easy part. Working out how best to eliminate both foxes is another problem altogether. My first reaction was to stake out the hole with the .243 and shoot the first fox to emerge, but that would only take care of one half of the problem. If I shot the vixen, the litter of cubs could be forgotten, but if I hit the dog, his mate would likely wait until I had gone, then relocate to another area. She would deliver the cubs, but without the support of the dog, she would struggle to raise many of them. Not having any control over which fox I take out could make the difference between a satisfactory conclusion and a missed opportunity. It is a delicate problem and needs to be handled with some thought.

Terriers could be used to flush the pair from their earth so that they could be shot, and this is probably the best solution. However, the only terriermen I know live some distance away, and it would hardly be worth their whiles for the sake of one earth. Finding another earth could take some time, and I would prefer them to work their dogs before the vixen delivers her cubs. I can fully appreciate the damage foxes cause to the wildlife on the farm, but rooting out blind babies is a little strong for my stomach. They’ve got to go, but I’d much rather kill them before birth or take them on as adults. I may be sentimental and inefficient, but this project was never planned as a systematic wholesale removal of vermin. The foxes would ideally be shot and forgotten, but if it can’t be done with a sense of fair play, I would rather it wasn’t done at all.

There are still a few weeks before action has to be taken, and I will start to ask around for advice on the subject. As long as I stay well away from the earth and avoid spooking them, nothing will be lost by waiting.