I spotted this fox curled up in a ball, bedded down under a fallen tree below the trail where I sometimes walk at lunchtime. He wasn't bothered by my footsteps until I stopped, then he raised his head to assess the threat.

I apologized for the intrusion, told him my truck was a half mile up at the trail head, and wondered if he wouldn't mind waiting for me to fetch my camera and return. "You are a special sighting to me," I explained. "And I would love a photograph, if you would be so kind."

"Well, you know how these things go," he said. "You could watch me with your eyes for a while longer, soak in the experience as long as possible. If you head up the trail for your camera, you risk my disappearing the moment you turn around, ending our encounter right here and now."

"Damn," I said. "I just don't know what to do."

"I'm just fuckin' with you," he laughed. "Of course I'll wait."

And he did.


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