One of the nicest moments of this summer has been seeing a young foxcub on the land by the river behind the workshop/ Our backdoor leads straight in to wild country, river floodplain, where I walk with Tex, husky cross Alsation, rather like a wolf. I have read Mark Rowlands' book 'The Philosopher and The Wolf' and it is a mirror of my life with Tex. He is, in many important ways, the dominant in our relationship. The tragedy is that human friends age at your pace where as a dogs life is compacted in to 15 or so years. The fox cub wasnt even this fortunate. He may have left home too early, perhaps kicked out of the litter for being a runt or simply taken too long a walk too young fom his home.
We hadnt seen him for a week or two. Today Mag found his decomposing corpse by the river. Maybe he fell in and his last act of strength dragged him to land, maybe someones dog got him.
I thought of photographing his remains as it is some kind of amazing picture. But I suppose a little love must have slipped under my skin unnoticed and stopped me putting this part of nature to the wire. RIP our little fox cub
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