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I had hoped that shouting at the fox would cause it to drop the duck and flee – I was wrong; it did indeed flee, although much to my increasing despair took its quarry with it.
We have a fence and gazebo-type structure separating our garden roughly in half – “”. The fox slipped under the fence -- a gap of only some 12.5 cm (5 in) -- with the duck still clasped firmly in its jaws.
This area was overgrown, with brambles, discarded glass, bricks, paving slabs and the odd tree interspersed for good measure.
It was along this rugged ‘alleyway’ that the fox took our duck.
It then went around our shed and over the back garden wall, with me in hot pursuit, screaming for all I was worth!
Picking him up, and holding him close to my chest I began my travels back to the familiarity of my garden, talking to him all the way.
I screeched like an opera singer with an appendage caught in a car door, and the fox dropped the duck into a small crevice under some steel pipes.
Looking desperately, I spotted Flick floundering in this pit and chirping in a quiet and rhythmic manner (signifying stress).
We made it back, and in the light of day I could see that he was bleeding quite badly.
I tore a handkerchief from the washing line as I scurried past and used it to cover his head, to reduce stress (thanks for that tip, ! I put him in his hutch and raced in doors to phone the vet and get him an appointment.