gray fox | THE FORESTER ARTIST

Along the road to our home are blackberry brambles. In one bramble patch is the den of a family of gray foxes. Some mornings I glimpse the foxes hanging out on the road. The foxes have lived in the area for years. They’re attracted to the area for the cottontail rabbits that also live in the blackberries. They appeared in my earlier post The Fox and The Song

“The Vixen” pen and ink.

The other morning, I was on my way to work. I came around the corner and surprised the fox family. There were four kits and the vixen playing in the road. When they saw me coming they scattered. Foxes were darting here and there diving into the blackberry bushes. I grabbed my camera to get a picture of the group, but they had scampered away. When I stopped in front of their blackberry patch, two of the little kits were peeking out. Before I could focus my camera they disappeared.

This brave little fox graciously pose for me.

The gray fox kit.

However, a couple of days later, I was fortunate to have one brave fox kit sitting out in front of their thicket. This little one posed graciously while I snapped a few pictures. It is always a treat to see the fox family. I just hope they stay far away from our chicken house.

fox, vixen, pen and ink, art, wildlife, nature

The Gray Fox

When I was a young child my mother had the record album Jimmie Rodgers Sings Folk Songs. I loved this record. One of the songs on it was The Fox And The Goose.

I came upon this little gray fox not long ago, and this song played in my head all day. I think the fox was a vixen, because she posed like a Parisian runway model.

The Fox And The Goose

by Jimmie Rodgers

Well, the fox went out upon a windy night,
Prayed to the moon, a gonna give him light,
He had many long miles to go that night,
Before he’d reach-a that town-o, town-o, town-o,
He had many long miles to go that night,
Before he’d reach-a that town-o.

Well the fox, he came to a great big pen,
Where the ducks and the geese, they were kept therein,
He said, “One of you’s a-gonna grease my chin,
Before I leave this town-o, town-o, town-o,
One, one of you’s a-gonna grease my chin,
Before I leave-a this town-o.”

Well, he grabbed the grey goose by the neck,
Throwed a duck up across his back,
And he did not mind their quack, quack, quack,
And their legs all a-dangling down-o, down-o, down-o,
No, he did not mind their quack, quack, quack,
And their legs all a-dangling down-o.

Well old Mother Flipper-Flopper jumped out of bed,
Threw back the shutter and stuck out her head,
And yelled, “John, John, John! Well, the grey goose is gone,
And the fox runs away from the town-o, town-o, town-o!”
“John, John, John! The grey goose, he’s gone,
And the fox runs away from the town-o!”

Well old John went up to the top of the hill,
He blew his horn both loud and shrill,
And the fox said, “I better hurry up with my kill,
They’re gonna soon be on my trail-o, trail-o, trail-o!”
Yes the fox said, “I better hurry up with my kill,
They’re gonna soon be on my trail-o!”

Well the fox, he came to his cozy den,
There sat the little ones, eight, nine, ten,
Said, “Pop, Pop, Pop, you better go back again,
‘Cause it must be a mighty fine town-o, town-o, town-o!”
“Pop, Pop, Pop, you better go back again,
‘Cause it must be a mighty fine town-o!

Well the fox and his wife, without any strife,
Cut up the goose with a fork and a knife,
And they never never had such a feast in their life,
And the little ones chewed on a bone-o, bone-o, bone-o,
No, they never never had such a feast in their life,
And the little ones chewed on a bone-o.

The End