City Fox

By Victor Nigel Wade

The life of a fox is a perilous one. If they are not being pursued by farmers, they have to escape the teeth of the ravenous hounds of the local hunt, chasing them through fields, ditches, hedges and woods. Foxes, however, are rather smarter than the Hooray Henrys which hunt them unmercilessly. Our particular fox gets some good advice from an older fox. He is persuaded to leave the Scottish countryside, and head for the great metropolis of London.

What follows is an intrepid night train ride to London, followed by mayhem at Euston Station. The adventure follows the course of the Regent’s Canal, a narrow escape from being mown down by a narrowboat, and kidnapping. A white female fox enters the story, sharing many adventures with our brave young fox. There is a twist in the tale, which might explain why we find so many foxes padding around our gardens, and inhabiting out-of-the-way places like cemeteries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398437456

Victor Nigel Wade

Victor Nigel Wade is a retired food technologist. He writes for his old school magazine and historical articles for an online magazine. He is a member of the Brentwood Writers’ Circle. He likes to explore the Essex countryside with his friends. This is his first children’s story, inspired by the foxes he used to see when he worked in Scotland.

Book preview

About the Author

Victor Nigel Wade is a retired food technologist. He writes for his old school magazine and historical articles for an online magazine. He is a member of the Brentwood Writers’ Circle. He likes to explore the Essex countryside with his friends. This is his first children’s story, inspired by the foxes he used to see when he worked in Scotland.

Dedication

Rita Mitchell and Rowan Hunter-Wade

Copyright Information ©

Victor Nigel Wade 2022

The right of Victor Nigel Wade to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398437449 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398437456 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Chapter 1

Humans are strange creatures, said Douglas.

Couldn’t agree more, replied Fergus, glancing at the old fox padding along beside him, as they threaded their way through the silent pine forest on the lower slopes of Mochrum Hill.

Take Farmer McGrath for instance, said Douglas. The man goes ballistic when a starving fox raids his chicken coop in search of a square meal. Does he expect us to starve? We can’t just live on field mice and the occasional rabbit: a fox needs some variety and substance in his diet. Anyway, why has that old hypocrite got those poor wee chickens locked up in that tiny coop?

Sunday roast, that’s for sure, chuckled Fergus.

Too right son. McGrath couldn’t care less about the welfare of those chickens. They should be getting some exercise, stretching their legs, flapping their wings, breathing in this pure Scottish air. It’s not natural. That’s what I say.

He’s up to something else, Douglas.

What’s that son?

Last week I saw some wire metal cages being delivered to the farm.

Douglas growled low in his throat. So that’s the old devil’s game. Battery farming, I’ll be bound.

What’s that? asked Fergus innocently. Using electricity to modernise his farm?

Oh no son. Something a wee bit more sinister than that. Each of those cages is going to contain a chicken. Can you imagine it? Prisoners behind bars day in, day out. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of cages stacked row upon row inside wooden sheds so long even you would get puffed running from one end to the other. Every chicken will be clucking frantically, pecking at the bars of the cage, and straining its head between them in a vain attempt to get free. Hemmed in for all of its short, unnatural life until it’s ready for slaughter, packaging, and presentation.

Fergus stopped. He looked straight at Douglas. I would never have believed it possible, he said.

"Well you better had, son, because that’s human beings for you. One law for them, a pair of vicious, snapping beagle’s teeth for us, or instant death with a bullet if you’re lucky. I believe it’s what the humans call hypocrisy. But let’s not worry about that. We’ve the rest of our trek up Mochrum to enjoy."

Eventually they reached the summit. The blue-green waters of the Firth of Clyde spread out before them as far as the eye could see. In the distance, fishing boats crawled between the waves like insects searching for food. White gannets plummeted from the heights of an azure sky, eyes focused on the unsuspecting fish swimming beneath the waves. Some way off, the cliffs of Ailsa Craig thrust out of the water like a lonely giant standing watch over the Firth.

Douglas raised his muzzle, sniffed the air, stretched his hind legs, and said: This is the life. Why would a fox want to be anywhere else in the world? Meanwhile, Fergus was sniffing in the direction of a nearby corpse, whiskers twitching, leg muscles taut, ready to propel him towards the trees in an instant.

Pheasants, muttered Douglas, a few drops of saliva falling from his mouth. "That’s an acute sense of smell you’ve got there Fergus, but