Ducks and Foxes

It was late when we put the fox food out this evening, and much later when they came. They finally turned up at a few minutes past nine, instead of the usual sandwiches they had cheese on toast, a yoghourt and as a special treat an egg. The female started on the cheese on toast, then moved to the egg which she picked up and placed amongst the cheese on toast. Meanwhile the male turned up, he knew if he dared get too close to the cheese on toast he would be snapped at, so he carefully edged forward until he was near to the dish with the yoghourt inside, He smelt it and backed straight off, the female instantly moved to the dish and picked it up, spilling much of the contents in the process. Undeterred she set the dish down and ate until the dish was as clean as if it had just been washed. Then she returned to what was left of the cheese on toast, cramming as much as she could in her mouth she made off across the lawn. The male came, grabbed a piece and rushed off, by now it was half past nine and almost too dark to see, I wondered which one would return first and who would take the egg.

As I watched and waited I was staggered to see two fat shapes come waddling across the lawn and up the steps to look in the lounge, it was the ducks. I couldn't believe my eyes and rushed into the kitchen to get them some food, it was now so dark that as I opened the window to feed them they were almost invisible.

The female started to quietly quack in a very contented manner as she ate, the male stood to one side head held high looking about him. I was certain that the foxes would return, would hear Mrs. Duck and one or both of them would be no more. The only thing I could think to do, to maybe prevent this happening, was to make the foxes aware of my presence.

So as if I was outside I opened the window wide and leaning out I talked to the ducks, imploring them to hurry, to eat quickly and go to the safety of their nest, it made little or no difference. They ate slowly, and by the time they had finished my eyes had become used enough to the dark to watch them leisurely walk down the path and turn onto the lawn where the rest of the fox food lay. They wandered infuriatingly slowly here and there, backward and forward all over that stretch of lawn. They pecked at the grass, they poked their beaks in the soft earth and just as I was wondering if I ought to go out and shoo them away, so they opened their wings and flew.