The Continuing Adventures of Jeremy the Fox

No, we didn't murder him and have him stuffed.

T and I had a Jeremy themed Christmas this year. I bought her this wooden Jeremy to put by our fireplace and a locket with a fox on it with our photos inside. We hadn't seen him in a while and were both a little nervous.

We put out food every evening but once after T had set out his dinner up in the woods, I noticed a woman with three large dogs in the park. They were unleashed. There are signs all over the park saying that dogs must be leashed by hey....one thing I have discovered is that dog lovers HATE leashing their dogs in the park and also that dog lovers are much like people with children.

They think that their dogs are special. And they are. I like almost every dog that I meet in the park. There was a difference, though, in this woman's dogs. All of the dog owners who bring their dogs to Towl Park know that there are certain feeding places for Jeremy, the fox. They are careful to steer their dogs clear of these places.

Except not this woman. Her dogs sniffed that food out licketty split and one came running out of the woods with a half carcass of chicken that T had specifically left for Jeremy. The other dogs immediately went to investigate and soon all the food that we had put out was gone. Surprisingly, the woman seemed unconcerned that her dogs were eating food found in the woods.

When T came back, I informed her that her feeding to Jeremy had been dog snatched. She was unhappy. We waited until the woman returned to her car and then T went to her and asked her to please refrain from unleashing her dogs at that place as it was a feeding area for a fox that our community had rescued. The woman, in a Meryl Streep inspired performance, was adamant that her dogs were only trained to eat food from her hand and would never eat stray food in the park. Even after I volunteered that I had seen her golden lab with a chicken carcass in its mouth, she demurred.

"I'm sure you are mistaken," she insisted and haughtily ordered her dogs into her vehicle. They ignored her and it took her several minutes to wrangle them into the car.

After that, we talked to several of our park friends who also feed Jeremy. They, too, said that they had seen this woman and that they had noticed large dog footprints all around their feeding areas for Jeremy.

It was a dilemma. We didn't want to insist that she leash her dogs. Many of our friends don't leash their dogs, either. They just keep them away from the deeper areas of the woods where Jeremy feeds. Foxes are creatures of habit. We had rescued Jeremy when he was a mange ridden baby fox last Spring. We had all worked together to keep him alive and get him well. It had worked so well.

Up 'til now.

It was obvious that we had to move Jeremy's feeding place, but to where? Where would it be safe from the woman and the dogs? Or as we all came to call her...

that lying woman with the three disobedient dogs

We still hadn't really solved the problem when we left for vacation to California. No one had seen Jeremy in person for a month.

The problem was solved two days ago. We went walking and, as is our habit, I returned to the car much earlier than T.  She likes to walk for over an hour. I get tired after about 15 minutes. So, I sat in our car waiting for her and reading.

When she came back, she was exuberant.

"Jeremy is alive and well!"

Apparently, she ran into one of our walker friends who walks with her junior high daughter. She had noted that Jeremy's regular feeding areas seemed to have lots of dog prints around them, so she set out a camera. Sure enough, any food left for Jeremy was regularly eaten by the disobedient dogs....although, you really can't blame the dogs. They are dogs. They will behave like dogs. They obviously thought that they had discovered a little dog cafe in the woods. The camera picked up Jeremy checking the food areas a few times but he smelled the dog scent and ran away quickly. 

The woman noticed fox prints farther north in the park and once, on an early morning walk by herself, she ran into him. Casually, she pulled a food packet out of her pocket and set it up in a new spot. After she laid it down, she left, not knowing if he followed through and ate it.

The next day the food was gone. She retrieved her camera and set it up carefully in the new spot and then she and her daughter left more food.

She showed T what the camera caught.

There was Jeremy. He was eating the food.

But....this was even better: HE WAS NOT ALONE!

Yes. There was an older female fox with him. A vixen. Jeremy, it seems....has mated. He is a young stud to an older partner. A fox and his vixen. Or cougar vixen. In the video, they are clearly a mated pair. She, it seems, is teaching him how to be a fox. Carefully marking her territory. Eating half and burying half for later. Both look healthy.

The camera is gone now and Jeremy and his vixen...we call her Bertha...has a new feeding station. But, it was clear from the videos taken that Jeremy had filled out well. He was not just living on handouts anymore. The handouts were supplementing his diet. Bertha is probably teaching him to hunt.

No one has any idea where their lair is and that is for the best. We all agree that their privacy is important. Our goal was never to make a pet out of a wild animal. Our goal was simply to keep him alive.

And we did. He has come a very long way from that tiny starveling of a kit who showed up shivering and scared in the parking lot of Towl Park. His fur is luxuriant now and reddish brown with a swooping white tail. He is small, yes, but he is not so skinny anymore.

And best of all, he has a partner. 

The writer, the dreamer in me has his story figured out. He was the runt of his litter and abandoned. Or...maybe his parents and siblings were killed and he was the lone survivor. He was the only fox that most of us walkers saw. He didn't know how to be a fox, so he wandered to where he could smell food. There were people there. All ages. Young children. Teenagers. Walkers. Runners. Dog walkers. Old people out for a stroll. They saw him and that part of them that is human and true wanted to help this poor little guy.

Food was given. When his mange began to get out of control, they all banded together and researched homeopathic cures for mange in foxes. They collected money, bought medicine and began to put it into his food stashes. He ate it and was cured of mange. He probably didn't hunt because no one had taught him how to do this, so he lived off what was left for him:

Charlene's scrambled eggs and bacon.
Padric's peanut butter balls and avocado toast.
Scout's dog bisquits rolled in honey.
L and T's grilled cheese sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, and an extra burrito or pizza crust
AJ's chicken pot pie leftovers
Teri's chicken carcasses......

He thrived. He was never their pet. He was a wild animal and they treated him as such. Yet, he often came to sit with L when she came to write in the park on hot Summer days. He liked to sit near Gramps when he fished every Thursday on his day off from the library. At night, he hovered near teenagers who were probably a little too high on weed or drunk on beer and happily ate half of their cheeseburger or taco. If anyone got too close or tried to touch him, he politely trotted away. The color red bothered him and they all tried never to wear it. He was leery of all dogs, so the dog walkers made sure to keep their distance. Sometimes, very early in the mornings when T could not sleep, she would go to the park to walk at 4:30 or 5:00. He often met her on the bridge and they would silently look out over the water after she tossed him half of her toast. Sometimes, if she didn't see him, she would whistle deep in her throat and he would come. Sometimes not.

They all grew to love Jeremy in the offhand way that he allowed.

As he grew, he grew more into his fox self and left his baby world behind. He met another of his kind, an older vixen with a kind heart. She took him in and taught him all that he didn't know. Which was a lot. She was patient. They mated. He learned to hunt and as he did, he found human food less and less enticing. He liked a good mouse or baby raccoon much better than a peanut butter ball or a hard boiled egg. Still, they stopped at the human stash and had a snack now and then.

Now, Jeremy is full grown. He doesn't remember much of his baby days. He has this fox life. Perhaps he is a parent. He is living his best fox self.

But, they still love him. They were the bridge that got him over whether he knows it or not.

And that is enough.