The magic of Black Sox

Despite its wet, raw coolness, this spring has provided some joyful observation.

Blue jays, in their sartorial splendour, gorge greedily on seed we have spread on the ground. There are as many as 18 of them throating seeds almost non-stop, pausing occasionally to shoo away chipmunks that are racing about crazily, trying to get their share.

At a suet cage swinging above this feeding frenzy, a remarkable sight. A rosy-breasted grosbeak and its mate peck at the tallow needed to warm and energize them in this prolonged chilly spring.

It has been years since we have seen any type of grosbeak, once a common sight at our lake place.

Just as exciting, a flock of sunshine yellow finches descends on the Niger seed feeder. They are another touch of beauty that we have not seen in a while.

The Jays, grosbeaks, finches and two red spotted wood peckers lift spirits dampened by  sullen grey skies.

But then a doleful face appears at the clearing’s edge, threatening to chase off the colour and cheer. The face looks familiar, but it is not until he steps fully into the clearing that I recognize him.

It is Black Sox, the wily red fox who visits every spring. At least I think it is him, although it could be one of his progeny, or even a totally different fox.

I am convinced it is Black Sox, however, when I see his front legs, which are rich black from shoulders to feet. All red foxes have black on their legs but none I have seen has such prominent full black stockings.

Not only is his face doleful, his entire appearance is dispirited. He reminds me of a down and out city street person who has lost hope and is ready to give up.

Black Sox obviously has had a rough winter. His coat is thin and matted, his tail lacking lustre and bushiness. He is painfully thin and appears weak.

He might be suffering from mange, the awful skin disease caused by mites, but I see no patches of raw skin in his fur. He also might have an intestinal parasite eating away his insides. Or, perhaps he is undernourished from lack of food during a long winter of deep snow worsened by episodes of freezing rain.

Foxes feed mainly on small mammals such as mice and voles during winter because  berries and insects are not available. But from my observations mice were scarce last winter because they hit their four-year population peak last year and now are at the low point of a new cycle.

Whatever the reason, it is sad to see Black Sox in such a sorry state. Red foxes are beautiful and among the cleverest of forest animals. They are even credited with teaching indigenous people how to capture ducks for food.

Foxes have been known to go to the edge of a water body where ducks are plentiful and start acting crazy, jumping and rolling about for no apparent reason. Ducks are curious birds and will swim close to shore to see why the fox is acting so silly. One quick lunge and the fox has dinner.

Hunters from early tribes copied the trick by tying a fox skin to a stick and wriggling it crazily from behind a bush or in a patch of reeds. When ducks approached to see what the commotion was about, the hunter tossed a net over them.

Some people believe that foxes have magical powers. I would like to believe that Black Sox’s magic brought all those colourful birds to brighten our spring. Probably not, but it is a pleasant thought.

I also want to believe that Black Sox does have magic that he will use to heal himself. And that the next time I see him his coat is fluffy and vibrant, his black socks velvety smooth and his eyes radiating his keen intelligence.

The real magic of Black Sox, and foxes in general, is that they remind us that life, inside and outside the forest, can be difficult and at times dangerous. But they also teach us that using our intelligence, instead of our emotions, will help us to manage whatever life throws at us.

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Decoying for Ducks

I saw him from the corner of my eye. He was standing statue still, no more than 15 feet away, staring into a pile of snow-covered rocks.

He lunged forward, nose into the snow, and when he backed up, a chipmunk hung from the corner of his mouth. He ran down the trail, stopped and swallowed his meal.

That’s a real-life nature scene, I thought as I went back to what I was doing. When I lifted my head a couple of minutes later, there he was again, staring at me from a knoll not 20 feet away.

He was the most beautiful red fox I have seen in years. Young, probably born last spring, and absolutely prime. The fronts of his legs looked like he was wearing clean black stockings. His bushy tail was almost one-half his body length.  His face with its long snout, pointed ears and mischievous eyes was one only his mother could love.

Most of the foxes I have seen in recent years have been emaciated – thin and weak. A couple have showed patches of bare skin where mange has taken the fur.

This one was curious and not displaying much fear. I held my hand toward him and clicked my tongue and he took a couple of cautious steps toward me. The hand was empty and I had nothing to offer so he backed off.

I wasn’t worried about being close to him. He was wildly healthy looking so I had little concern about rabies.

You have to admire foxes. They are clever hunters who always hunt alone. Their lives, which usually last only 18 to 24 months, are a perpetual search for food. And, they have clever ways of getting what they need to eat, one of the most clever of which is decoying ducks.

Ducks are difficult for foxes to catch because they usually are on the water or in the air. So foxes will cavort on a shoreline, rolling about and acting crazy. Ducks are curious critters and when they see the fox antics they paddle close to shore for a better look. When they get close enough the sly fox snags one.

Early Indians observed this and began using fox skins to attract ducks. They tied ropes to the tail and nose of the skin. Each end was taken by a hunter who hid behind a bush. The Indians would pull the rope back and forth making the skin move like a fox acting silly. When the ducks approached, the Indians would throw a net over them.

Although they prefer to burrow underground, foxes will sometimes climb trees and settle in low branches to snooze or watch for prey. They also are especially good at finding their way in the dark because they have excellent night vision, and they have whiskers on their legs that help them feel their way.

They usually are quiet animals but they have a variety of calls ranging from yips to a high-pitched scream made during the mating season.        

Foxes are still hunted around the world as pests and for sport, although hopefully the days of killing a fox to put its tail on car radio aerial seem to be gone. Annual fox kills in Britain are said to be about 25,000 and a whopping 600,000 in Germany.

The British aristocracy still hasn’t been able to get past the cruel sport of running down foxes with hounds and horses. Britain banned hunting foxes with hounds in 2004 but the ban is widely ignored.

Members of the Royal family still have fox hunts, although they claim to use fox scent, not real foxes. A couple of years back people complained to police that a real fox was being chased by hounds and red jacketed horse riders during one of Prince’s Charles’ hunts.

Foxes, however, often are smarter than the hounds, horses and humans. Certainly they are more loyal parents. There was a report from England that a kit fox was caught in a trap for two weeks but survived because its mother brought it food every day.

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