You foxy minx

You're there, tantalisingly close, large eyes that miss nothing, lithe body taut and ready for the action you know may come. I remain motionless watching, my eyes on yours, intent upon my prey; I see you, I think to myself, I will have you, and then you shift, each movement cautious yet confident and I think, you foxy little minx.

- G-dog -

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I took the image above on the cattle farm on which I cull, perform animal control duties with my firearms, on behalf of the farmer. It's a beautiful place and I'm privilege to have access any time I like. I've arrived many times and been so struck with the beauty, peace and quiet that I've not fired a shot preferring to simply enjoy the moment, open up to nature and let its healing effect flood into my body, mind and soul.

Of course, my sole purpose there is the destruction of life, and so at some point I need to make that happen.

Feral and pest animal control is crucial to a farm's viability whether stock or crops and whether that takes the form of chemicals and sprays, fencing, culling or other control-measures it is a reality of farming. If humanity wishes to eat, things need to die.

I don't just mean the things we eat have to die though; you see, in the primary production of food sometimes things we don't eat need to be eradicated. I understand that so many people don't like the thought of it and are happy to consume their food products pushing aside the fact that living things died to put them on the plate; I also understand there are vegetarians and vegans out there...but here's the thing, in farming things will die. An example?

Imagine one of those massive wheat farms Australia has...fields and fields of wheat as far as the eye can see; you think no animals die for it? Well yeah, they do. Kangaroos do a lot of damage to such crops by eating it, bedding down and flattening it, destruction of fences surrounding it and so on...That costs the primary producer money, and so they are controlled; culled. That means shot with a firearm, by someone like me, or the farmer. Come to think of it, the production of wool means that animals die also; if you've seen what foxes do to lambs you'll know why too; yes animals died to put that wool sweater on your back.

It's not just kangaroos or foxes though, and on the farm on which I operate I'm there to shoot deer, kangaroos, rabbits, hares and foxes. There's a lot of information on the damage these animals do to primary production and with deer, rabbits, hares and foxes being non-indigenous, introduced, species the impact upon the native fauna and flora is massive also. You can google it if you like. I've explained it all before so don't feel I need to again.

I usually don't waste ammunition on rabbits and hares and shooting at them only serves to scare off anything else anyway. But the deer, kangaroos and foxes are always in the cross hairs.

Last night I went to see what was going on after about a week of not doing so due to poor weather. As always, I was struck by the beauty and peacefulness of the place and soaked that in for a while but got to work just before sunset which was just after I took the picture at the top of this post. The image directly above was taken from where I was sitting enjoying the solitude.

As I did my thing I was surprised that I didn't see any kangaroos though; it was a little strange considering how many are around the place. Even more oddly though, is that I saw foxes. I've actually only seen a very small handful in the last few years here and last night I saw three.

The sun had set and as I cast about with my searchlight I spotted a close-set pair of green eyes looking at me from a couple hundred metres away. One doesn't just start blasting of course as it's important to verify the target first. The thing with foxes is that they're very clever; The term cunning as a fox doesn't exist for no reason. So, I pulled out my fox whistle to see if I could call it in, meaning keep its attention and bring it in closer. The whistle replicates the sound of a rabbit in distress, a rather pitiful sound actually, but the foxes love it.

The problem with foxes is that when they are not looking directly at the shooter and in the spotlight they are basically invisible; it's their eyes that give them away. So, calling them with the whistle makes them stop and turn towards the sound and then, with the light, one can see it. This process can take a long time or a short time, it's a little like fishing. Foxes are smart and cunning so some skills are required.

Last night two of those foxy minxes out-foxed me, the third didn't.

My culling-system is a custom stainless Tikka CTR chambered in .243 and scoped, it is set up for distance shooting. Of course, foxes aren't that large so when at a greater range the challenge is greater. Last night the two that eluded me were at around 160 metres and the less cautious, and now dead, one was shot at about 120 metres.

At that range all I could see were glinting eyes and a guess best estimate was made on where the actual body was when setting up the shot

This is also a little harder at this time of year as the grass is about mid-calf height to me which generally is taller than a fox stands. Still, the G-dog can be cunning too. I aimed at centre-mass, where I thought centre-mass was, and ended up taking the fox right in front of the rear legs. I would have liked to take it in the shoulder for a cleaner kill but it was not possible to be that specific. Rest assured, the .243 packs a wallop; at 125 metres the bullet imparts 1245 ft-lbf of energy into the target and the transfer of energy is catastrophic to the animal.

When it went down I could still see eyes meaning it was still alive; I could have taken another shot but decided to save the ammunition and walked up the hill to dispatch the animal but by the time I got there it was dead. I took a photo of it but have chosen not to post it here out of respect for those who may find it distressing although, it just looks like a sleeping fox, nothing more.

I stayed out a little longer hoping to see those other two again but they were smart and had buggered off elsewhere.

I had a pretty good time last night, and I don't mean the killing; I'm not one to enjoy it and never have. I loved the hike and the peace and quiet I always find out there. I managed to sit for a while and soak up the feel of it and to find a moment of tranquillity after what had been a hectic week. It's moments like that I love more than anything and being out on the farm, having the entire place to myself and the cattle, horses, kangaroos, deer, foxes, rabbits, hares, snakes, ducks, magpies, frogs, kookaburras and koalas and a shit-load of other things, is just so valuable.

I don't mind getting out-foxed by a couple of foxy little minxes now and then; I may never see them again, or maybe I'll take them down someday, who knows. What I know for sure is the moments I created out there last night were needed and helped set me up for the weekend.