Hey! Fox! GET OFFA MY LAWN!

So!  The whole fox thing took less than a week to go from "Too. Cool." to "Now it's war".  I think I set some kind of personal record, there. 

Bottom line is, while the fox IS cool and awesome and handsome, what is NOT cool and awesome and handsome is Pony and Tinks exploding through the pet door and into the house at ten o'clock last night, all afloof and "Mom!  Mom!  Mom!  Holy sh*t Mom there's a FOX out there a freakin' FOX and Mom! Mom! Mom! Holy sh*t!"

*sigh*  So I grabbed a flashlight and headed out back in my PJs and sock feet, to find that yes, indeed, there WAS a fox in my backyard, and he was not at all dissuaded by my flashlight and my yelling and my waving my arms around and my searching for rocks to throw and finding nothing, leaving me to tear up clumps of GRASS in frustration and throwing them at the fox who was at least sixty feet away, which the fox freaking LAUGHED at before he finally turned and moseyed back into the brush, pausing to give me the old side-eye a couple of times on the way.

Foxes are not much scared of people.  I'm fairly certain they find us amusing, which let's face it, if I was a fox being confronted by a fifty-year-old woman yielding a flashlight and throwing clumps of GRASS, yeah, I'd find it pretty freaking funny too.

So!  Thankfully, the cats have enough presence of mind to be frightened of the fox.  And they're all just about as big as the fox is, and fully equipped with teeth and claws, and also adept at fighting other cats (judging my the amount of cat caterwauling outside my bedroom window on warm summer nights) so I'm fairly certain they are not about to become fox dinner.  (And if you are hovering over the comment button right now, all ready to share stories of neighbors' pets who got eaten by foxes, just ... don't.  Just don't, mmmkay?)

However, I don't want my cats to live in fear of the new bully on the block every time they step outside.  So!  I am mounting my plan of attack.

Step one:  Finally turn on the backyard floodlight which I have never bothered to use once since I moved in four years ago.  I think it's time.

Step two:  Bucket of rocks, to be kept by the back door.  Because that grass thing was pretty ridiculous, even for me.

Step three:  Air rifle, aka BB gun.  It will be seen whether I can, indeed, manage to put my eye out.  (No, I am not going to kill the fox.  I don't think it's even POSSIBLE to kill a fox with a BB gun.  I do hope to put some fear into it, though.)


Dear fox:  I love you.  I do.  You are awesome and handsome and cool.  Just ... GET OFFA MY LAWN!



(p.s. Dudes, I MEAN IT about the no "pets-eaten-by-foxes" stories in the comments.  DO NOT EVEN.)