Foxy cat

When cycling round the New Forest at the weekend we saw a number of signs that said "Fight Prejudice, Fight the Ban"

What the sign meant was: Fight prejudice against upper class toffs (or perhaps country people in general), resist the fox hunting ban.

Last year Parliament outlawed fox hunting, which believe it or not was a major policy imperative for the Labour party. There were big protests and folks are still upset.

Now I have to put down my marker that I don't care much for hunting with dogs nor do I care much for hunting at all. But I do feel that the ban was motivated by a desire to stick it to the posh people rather than a great and abiding love for foxes, which I think is mean and spiteful. On the other side of the argument, country sports people claim that hunting foxes with hounds is "more humane" than shooting them, which I just don't buy.

Foxes, though, have achieved a kind of sacred cow status, particularly among the Left. And while I don't know if the fox population is booming in the countryside (they can still be shot as vermin), foxes are certainly doing their best to claim the city streets. And councils (in London anyway) won't do anything to curb the population.

Southwest London neighbourhoods are crawling with foxes. And they are bold. This morning my cat Fancy and a young fox (though easily 4 times her weight) got into it. The fox was in our garden (fences are no barrier to them) and then jumped up on our neighbor's shed and stared at me quite brazenly. This is not Fancy's first fox experience, and she loves to chase them, which worries me no end.

These urban foxes have very little fear of humans. One old fox that has frequented our road used to sit on the sidewalk and not move. Several times I gave first and walked into the road to avoid collision. I expect that one day fairly soon I will find one in my house chowing down on our expensive cat food (or maybe our cats)