By Daryl Bauer
Got a story to tell… Last Sunday I was getting ready for church, glanced out the living room window and spotted a fox standing in the street in front of our house. Now, like many neighborhoods in Lincoln, it is not uncommon for us to see a fox wandering around. Love seeing them.
So, when I spotted this one, I called to my wife to come look. By the time she got to the window it was obvious the fox’s attention was directed at something underneath the car parked across the street.
It was a squirrel, and the hunt was on!
For the next couple of minutes, the suspense of a National Geographic drama played out in our front yard. The fox went after the squirrel which dashed out from under the car. At max. speed the squirrel zigged and zagged in the street, a hungry fox hot on its tail. Round and round they went, back under the car, then out into the street. The squirrel made a break for one of the pin oak trees in front of our house. Reaching the tree, it doubled right back into the street—the fox was too close behind for it to climb the tree.
Back and forth they went; my wife and I hanging on the outcome.
Now, you know I am warped, so I have to admit, we were cheering for the fox. Foxes have to eat too, and urban foxes live on a razor’s edge of survival. Squirrels, well, we have lots of squirrels. They reproduce like rabbits because they die like rabbits—they are made for eating and every predator loves to eat them.
Across the street, back under the car, race for a tree, double back into the street. Eventually the chase veered off to the oak tree in our neighbor’s yard. We held our breath as the squirrel reached the tree and tried to head up. The fox grabbed it and brought it back down. Another quick lap or two around the tree, another attempt to climb, another grab and grounding.
Almost imperceptibly, the race was slowing. Squirrely would try climbing, but each time the transition from running to climbing exposed it to capture. The grabs became more frequent and the holds of longer duration. Eventually, the fox got a grab around the front shoulders and the quiet screaming of a distressed squirrel could be heard (if you are a predator caller, you know the exact sound of which I am referring).
Holding the squirrel in its mouth, the fox carried it away from the tree. Foxy was shaking the squirrel as well as clamping down on it. Occasionally, it would release and drop the squirrel. The squirrel would move, even regain its feet and start for the tree, but the fox would quickly grab it again.
Soon, the twitching of the squirrel slowed; the quiet crying ceased. Ultimately, the squirrel was limp. Lifeless. The fox sat beside it, panting.
The fox would nudge and play with the squirrel, seeing if it would still move. When it was sure it would not, the fox finally laid in the grass, still panting, next to the squirrel.
Success!
The fox rested in our yard with its prize for the next several minutes. Other squirrels, very much alive, scolded it from the branches above. Eventually, fox picked up its prize and headed for a quieter, more hidden place in the neighbor’s backyard. As we pulled out of the driveway for church, the fox was back there tossing and playing with its trophy. I swear the fox was smiling.
I joked with my wife that after just witnessing the life and death struggle in our front yard, I was too frazzled to go to church.
Have been thinking a lot about that drama ever since we witnessed it…
We have lots of squirrels in our neighborhood and I have watched some casual interactions between them and foxes before. The foxes do not seriously hunt every squirrel they see. Surprisingly, one morning I watched a fox seemingly race around from one squirrel to another, but it never pursued any of them with deadly intent. Looking back, I realize that fox was testing the squirrels and trying to put them in a position of disadvantage—a position where it could make a successful capture.
Do not know what the squirrel was doing under the car across the street from our house. Do not know if it was not paying attention and the fox was there before the squirrel knew it.
I do know that the fox was smart enough to recognize it had that squirrel in a bad position—blocked from its tree. The squirrel was in between the proverbial rock and a hard place. In this case between a car and its high place.
I marvel at the predatory instincts. By the time I was observing the drama, the fox had placed itself in an advantageous position and knew that it had an excellent chance of success. “Check” quickly followed by “Checkmate”.
If I may take the analogy further, everything goes back to the water with me. . ..
It is all about predator/prey relationships. Unexpectedly, my wife and I were witness to that struggle for life.
As an angler I know that those same dramas are playing out beneath the surface of the waters I fish. In like fashion, big predator fish I love to catch are doing the same thing, utilizing the same instincts. To be successful and survive, those aquatic predators also recognize times and places when they will have an advantage to be able to capture as much prey as possible.
If I can be in those right places at the right times, I can catch some big, fat, beautiful fish. With an abundance of prey well into fall, the predator fish I pursue are not racing around continually chasing meals even though they are feeding heavily. Predators feed when they have the best chance of success. Then they rest, conserve energy.
I will spend a lot of time this fall being part of that drama. I am a predator too. In the field, success will come with healthy, tasty protein placed on the table. On the water, success will more often be measured in big fish caught, photographs taken, and fish released.