Moxie bolted a fox from this sette on Sunday.
Despite the bit of wing in front, this sette does not look very foxy, and it's too late in the season for true denning. I think this fox might have been a youngster caught napping above ground who tucked into this den when we came down the hedgerow.
He picked a good hole for a fort -- there were grave-sized pieces of foot-thick quartz on top, a pig fence in front, and roots all over.
A lunge by Misto, who was tied to a springy tree branch, and a flash of red up and over a downed tree, let me know I had missed a hole at the back. All good. Long may it run.