“The power lies in the wisdom and understanding of one’s role in the Great Mystery
and in honoring every living thing as a teacher.” - Jamie Sands & David Carson

Fox Rescue, 2005

There are people who have been involved in wildlife rehabilitation for 20 to 30 years. Thinking about that, I realize I am very much a rookie. While I feel I have a good handle on some things, there are others I really know very little about.

When the call came from the local Game, Fish and Parks Dept. regarding a red fox pup I was at first hesitant to accept the pup. On one hand I had never cared for a fox before. On the other hand it would be a chance to experience something new and expand my knowledge. Before I knew it I was on my way to pick up the pup.

She had apparently been found in someone’s yard. They’d picked her up and taken her to the offices of the Game, Fish and Parks Dept. There she was, in her large cardboard box curled up into the smallest ball of fur possible. My first thought was of how terrified she must be. Every now and then she would let out a series of sad little yips and the temptation to pick her up and offer her comfort was strong but there are boundaries, lines that you don’t cross.

We left the Game, Fish and Parks Dept. and went directly to Canyon Lake Veterinary Hospital. The pup weighed in at a mere 2 pounds. Her dull grayish puppy fur was dirty and she was covered with fleas and ticks. She was somewhat dehydrated and weak. We treated her for the external parasites and began a treatment plan for internal parasites as well. Other than that, she appeared to be a fairly healthy pup.

She had a ravenous appetite and she grew quickly. When she had regained her strength she was moved to an outside enclosure that was furnished with a small stack of straw bales for burrowing in. Piles of leaves, sticks and old logs made great playthings. Plus—mice, a favorite prey item, had taken up residence in the straw pile as well. She was rarely seen during the afternoon hours (nap time if you’re a fox). It was in the early mornings and in the evenings that she would come cautiously creeping out of the den she had made in the straw bales. It was at these times that I could watch her and learn from her, careful to always stay out of sight.

A fresh pile of hay made for hours of entertainment. One single piece of hay could become a favorite plaything until it had been tossed around and pounced on too many times and had to be replaced by yet another piece of hay.

As she grew older her coat changed from dull gray to red. She began tossing and pouncing on the mice and rats that were provided as part of her diet. And I waited for the day that she would catch one of the little mice that shared her straw bales.

Also, as she grew older, her curiosity about me grew. Usually when she saw me she’d quickly dart into her little den. At about 4 ½ months of age she began peeking out at me. She grew brave enough to continue her game of pounce and toss even though she knew I was watching her. When I was outside doing other “chores” she no longer went into hiding but silently sat watching me with her small dark eyes.

The fox experts say that they should not be released until 6 months of age. Did I want to wait until then? Would she lose her fear of me and then possibly not fear other humans? And still, to my knowledge, she had not yet caught a mouse on her own. That had to happen before she could be released.

Each day the temptation to engage in play and interact with the fox grew stronger. At times she would look at me as if she just couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t come and play with her. But, there are boundaries that you don’t cross.

Finally the day arrived. She had caught not one, but three little mice!! I found their limp little bodies lying in the hay. Did she leave them there for me to find? She was now 5 months old. Just one month short of what the experts recommend for release. Should we wait another month? It was decided that we’d release her the following weekend.

Over the rest of that last week I found several more of her mouse “trophies” in various stages of being played with. And I spent more time watching her. Evenings were the best time, just as it was getting dark. Summer breezes, bugs making their bug noises and the smell of fresh hay in the fox pen. The heat of the day gone, it was time for fox games.

Tentative at first, eventually curiosity got the best of her and out she’d come to sit and watch me as I watched her. Any sudden movement or scary noise and she quickly ran to the protection of her den. But on our last night together we sat and watched each other for a long time. Both so curious about the other; both apparently willing to cross the boundaries we shouldn’t cross, neither of us wanting to be the one to turn and walk away. Her dark eyes saying, “Please come and play with me.” When something startled her and she ran to her den I knew that was the time for me to turn and go. As I walked back to the house I knew she had come out of hiding and was watching me go. I felt her eyes on me and so badly wanted to return to watch her in her play but I knew it would only make it more difficult to leave a second time. The head has to overrule the heart.

The release the following day was really rather uneventful. At first she was afraid to leave the live trap we’d caught her in. I expected her to dart from the trap and quickly disappear into the tall grass, but she didn’t. She took her time, stopping to look back at us every few steps. My last glimpse of her was just her little face peering at us over the grass. And then she was gone.

I think of her often and wonder if she thinks about the woman that cared for her. Does she even have a memory of me? I like to think so. I feel fortunate to have had the chance to learn from her. It was a wonderful experience.