I was lying in bed this morning wondering if it was too early to get up when I heard a noise outside. So no, not too early and I get up, look for a torch, discard 2 that need new batteries, rummage under a pile of stuff and find another one and go out in the wet and cold.
Everything looks OK but I put on Hubby's old workboots and as I go clumping towards the chookpen I see some red eyes in there and I start shouting at the bloody things. I hear them go out through the fence and think that there were at least 2 of them. I go in the pen and see the chooks roosting, some in the fruit trees, some on the ground. They all would have been an easy target.
Hubby will be home sometime today but not up to doing much so I will put them, the chooks, in a lockup pen closer to the house tonight and borrow a foxtrap from a friend. I might even sacrifice my liver to the buggers. Well not my liver but the one in the fridge that I was planning on cooking for lunches.
Hubby will ask why I didn't get the gun out and shoot them but it was 4.30am. And dark. And son still has the gun. And I can't shoot animals anyway...
I hate foxes.
Hours later....I am back from a walk and can definitely smell fox outside the gate and front fence. I will ask son to bring his dogs out today and maybe get him and the daughters to save the dog poo for me. I have heard that is a deterrent and other years when we have put it out we haven't had the foxes back. Could be a coincidence but worth doing anyway.
Listen to Lilly.
2 hours ago