This beautiful foe
It was an unusual end to a brilliant day. “Want to see my pet fox?” asked Lincolnshire keeper Ben Pocklington, as he gave everyone a brace of game. We didn’t need to be asked twice. As we wandered down the hill, Jenny, the five-year-old vixen, squealed in delight. Ben opened the gate, ushered us in and gave her a duck for dinner, at which point she came and sat with us, playfully nibbling my pocket. It’s the sort of thing some would find hard to believe. ‘Keepers hate foxes’ is the standard narrative peddled, but I’ve yet to meet one who doesn’t have a lot of respect for them. Most of the public have seen foxes slipping off down a side street at dusk. But keepers spend long nights in the cold,…