PATRICK Taylor has unwittingly solved his own hatred of urban foxes at a stroke if he did but know it.
Even though the tame fox he encountered on a bench by the seafront was totally outside its natural habitat, well cared and beautiful was his loving description of it, gushing with sentimentality, stroking and fondling it, it almost brought a tear to my eye, only to state later that sentimentality is such an ugly emotion.
The difference being that one was tame and well cared for and the urban foxes he loathes are mangy, lean, limping gait, scratching a miserable existence, his description of them.
Problem solved as if he so loved being in the presence of such a beautiful animal, he should forget about his obsession with irises and pathetic garden competitions and care for, not persecute, urban foxes that venture into his garden, build them a den, feed them, build them up into healthy specimens he so admires, or so he tells us.
A tip for him, they love roast chickens garnished with leftovers, not too much salt (said with tongue in cheek).
It would be interesting to know if all the plants he grows in his garden are indigenous species, for if not, why not?
OK for his plants to be trapped outside of their natural environment but he has quite a different set of theological viewpoints on design and environmental issues when it comes to urban foxes.
Please don't tell me that your prized irises were imported foreigners, heaven forbid.
Mr J Lees
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