Sunday, 13 June 2010

Animal cranks more dangerous than urban foxes

The peculiar stench of fox urine is a familiar morning smell for Londoners taking their morning cuppa out to the garden, and fox turds decorate the morning pavements, the creatures not yet having learnt to 'pick up'. Londoners are also finding the toll of general foxish destruction more of a problem than skateboarding teens, but unlike teens they have no fear of middle class householders gesturing 'Shoo!' out of their kitchen windows. And now to cap it all, the poor dears have drawn the lunatic moonbat wrath of the animal nutters down on their heads.

Whilst bristly little polyp Bill Oddie crouches for long hours in the bushes for a single glimpse of foxy on a green-tinged night image camera, our foxes run the streets until well after dawn; a young dog fox regularly trots across the road under my study window at 6.30 or so on his way to lay-up for the day. And they climb - something I'm sure I never saw once in Suffolk - leaping from shed roof to shed roof. As the train to the office runs through an embankment that's home to a warren of earths, entire foxy families lay out taking the sun, the cubs playing unconcerned within feet of the tracks.

With so many foxes in London, it's hardly surprising that the fish-are-people-too crowd of deranged and psychotic loons well known to country folk should pop up, threatening and abusing the mother of the twins 'mauled' by foxy. They'll be daubing her car in red paint next, or pouring petrol through her letter box. That's what they do to people who disagree with them.

So at the risk of driving the lamebrains to apoplexy, here's my solution. Back in the '70s the Ministry of Agriculture paid for each Coypu tail we turned in; I think it was two bob, or even half a crown each. Enough anyway to be a decent incentive to lads with access to a .410 and some ditches. Let them now offer the same incentive to London; a crisp fiver for each fox brush.

Londoners don't need hounds or rifles. Even crafty snares are unnecessary. Our foxes will gladly enter a cage trap trap baited with just a chicken wing from the Colonel's best southern spicy range, or some fragments of chilli-soaked kebab meat. Unemployed Afro teens can put their 9mms and Mac10s to good use. Somalis can re-learn their spearcraft. Lithuanian dypsomaniacs can throw beer cans with force and surprising accuracy. Jihadists can explode themselves amongst the fox earths.

Killing foxes is something I know that modern London will be very good at. And the rights loons may even find modern Londoners more of a challenge than rural housewives.

4 comments:

TheFatBigot said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
TheFatBigot said...

There's a chap in Northampton (or somewhere such) who runs a successful business offering fox culling services to local authorities. The service is used widely but always on the hush-hush so as not to alert the lentil-knitters.

About two years ago my little part of Islington enjoyed a sudden reduction in sightings of foxes. A family that rested habitually under the plane tree at the back of my garden, buggering-up the busy lizzies, were never seen again.

Of course there will be no persuading some people that foxes are just disease-ridden wild dogs. Add a bushy tail to a hyena and the soppy morons would say "awwwww, innit lovely".

Basil's Brushes said...

In my youth, it was half a crown for a grey squirrel tail. As the man said, they are really just rats with good PR.

English Pensioner said...

And I see from today's Mail that the family who had their children mauled by a fox have had to have a police guard because of threats by animal rights activists.