Teenage Trouble

The back garden here in the far west of Ireland has long been an animal sanctuary with badgers, Irish hares, moles, feral cats and foxes. Here, away from the traffic and free of human persecution, they can breed to their heart’s content.

Foxes are especially known for their cunning and, over the generations, they develop new skills. Two years ago, the garden became home to a herd of goats that soon discovered the delights of the plum tree. The sweetest plums hang, of course, from the highest branches. But that’s no obstacle for a hungry goat, which simply stands on its hind legs and stretches its neck a little. Soon the foxes were copying this technique, which has since been passed on down the generations from vixen to cub.

The current vulpine mother-in-residence is a mature lady, who is probably coming to the end of her reproductive life. Earlier this summer, she was regularly seen beneath the plum tree with a single adolescent cub in tow. She would patiently show him how it is done: you find your balance, stand bolt upright and, when necessary, leap towards the juiciest plums. But Junior simply rolled on his back, scratched himself and waited for the choicest fruits to drop into his mouth. This did not happen. Instead the mother fox snarled, lunged at him and told him in, so many words, that she was sick of waiting on him hand and foot, and that it was high time he made his own way in the world!

Two days later Junior was on his own and sitting as still as a garden ornament in the pouring rain. What now? Clearly, for all his teenage bravado, he hadn’t a clue. Finally the rain stopped, the sun came out and the very next day he came bursting out of the woods with a large and very dead mole his mouth. This prey was his and his alone; he wasn’t sharing it with anyone!

Later that afternoon, Junior lay replete and satisfied in the long grass. Slowly his gaze drifted upwards towards those luscious plums. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

Photo: Annie