Out in the cold in search of Reynard

I let out another squeak by gently sucking in air against the palm of my hand — trying to emulate the sound of a distressed rabbit — and again the dog fox trotted inquisitively forward.

I still didn’t quite have a clear shot in the fading light and misty rain. I needed the animal clear of the brambles at the edge of the field so I could make him out more clearly. He was keen to come in, having already covered several hundred yards of the big field of sheep to my left in response to my calls. I’d only been out for around half an hour, timing my visit to just before dusk which is always a good time to be out foxing.

This one was working his way slightly round on the wind while he came in, perhaps trying to catch some scent