I tried everything I could to find Vicky. I retraced all the places I had previously taken her; every brook, every hedgerow, every tree and meadow. At weekends I was up from the first ray of light, searching in vain until the sun slipped back and left me in darkness. I called for her until my voice grew hoarse and tears of sorrow trickled down my face. I had to find her. She was my special, precious friend…
For over a month I continued to look for her: roaming the surrounding countryside. I always took Sally (our dog) along with me, hoping she’d be able to track Vicky down using her sensitive nose. After all, they had slept in the same kennel and were chums. Occasionally she would detect a scent and set off in hot pursuit, yapping excitedly. My heart would leap with momentary joy and then drop as I realised she had merely flushed out a rabbit or pheasant - not a fox. Eventually, of course, I had to accept the unacceptable - that she was gone forever.
I have had my fair share of triumph and disaster since those days, but the hurt of losing Vicky still pains me. It was one of the saddest events of my life. If you have ever lost anything you have truly loved, you will understand how I felt - even to this day.
The story of Vicky the fox cub doesn’t quite end there. Three years later, when I was thirteen years old, I was walking along a railway embankment about a kilometre from home. It was a bright, still morning. The lush green meadows were splashed with a collage of buttercups and daisies. Skylarks soared above, and through their shrill songs and the chirps of other birds, the air hummed with sounds of insects.
I was actually looking for adders - the only poisonous snakes in Britain, for we had released some along that stretch of embankment a few years earlier. Suddenly, very close by, a fully grown vixen (female fox) leapt out of the bushes onto the track and, seeing me, shot off at full pelt down the railway line. She was followed closely by Sally, who was yapping loudly with obvious excitement. I stood still and watched the chase, which only lasted for about a hundred metres. The vixen slowed until she was walking. As she slowed, so did Sally. Then she stopped and turned around and looked directly at Sally – who’d stopped too. They stood there at opposite sides of the railway track, staring at each other. I kept very still and watched in silence. Then the fox started to walk towards Sally, who remained wary but calm. As they got closer, the vixen slowly reached her head forward, and very…very gently…. they touched noses!
I was stunned! The fox then looked towards me; seemingly mulling over whether to come to me or walk away. She chose the latter; turning away and melting into the undergrowth which grew all along the embankment.
It was only at THAT moment I thought of the possibility it might be Vicky! The vixen’s behaviour was most unusual. I had never heard of a wild fox making friends with a chasing dog - especially one that was part foxhound!
I called out her name repeatedly, hoping to remind her, “Vicky! Vicky! Vicky!” and ran after her. And as my voice echoed across the valley I saw her again, walking briskly across the meadows. I wish I could say that the fox ran to me, jumped up and licked my face. If she had I would have smiled for the rest of my life. But she didn’t. However, she did look over to me once, and for a brief moment I thought she was remembering her friend, when she was a cub, a friend who had cared for her and loved her with all his heart. But it wasn’t to be. She dodged through another hedgerow and disappeared into a field of golden yellows. And as her name continued to echo softly across the valley, she left my life forever….
True stories, unlike fairy tales, sadly, don’t always have a happy ending. But looking back now, some thirty years later, I am pleased that Vicky returned to the wild, to her true home. For wild animals, whether mouse, parrot, snake or fox, are not designed to be kept in cages or homes. They are born to follow in the footsteps of their forefathers: in the wild, with nature - and free!
A naďve councilman and a down-on-her-luck single mom try to save their county’s last stand of forest from greedy developers and a dysfunctional government.
