Scout and I were out on Loxley Common this morning. It is a wonderful place of ancient woodland and heath, low gritstone edges and sandy paths. We go there just about everyday, to play and learn.
It was a sad start to the day, Scout had his first find. He shot over to what at first I took for a rabbit, but turned out to be a Fox Cub. Scout lost interest and moved on, but Alison and I just stood transfixed by this beautiful creature that lay so still at our feet.
He was just laid on open common. I could not leave him there so picked him up to move him to a place of rest. He was still warm and showed no signs of injury except a broken neck. He laid almost as though he was running and about to pounce on some prey. Front legs raised back legs powered out.
He was a beautiful creature, the eyes still alive, his fur, brown and white, soft to the touch. I cradled him in my hands and found a spot in the woodlands, under brambles and on a bed of leaves and laid him to rest in a place of nature, somewhere he would have spent hours with his mother.
I stood back and looked and thought, and saw him chasing rabbits across the heath.