Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
this should promptly be reported to health authorities so that the animal can, if possible, be tested for
rabies, and the need for rabies shots for the person or persons involved be assessed by an expert.
Not all foxes that act sick have rabies, for the species is also susceptible to distemper. This can cause
a fox to act exceedingly lethargic, drag its hindquarters, and exhibit other signs of illness. It should al-
ways be assumed, however, that such an animal is rabid, and contact with it should be carefully avoided.
There is one other aspect of red fox behavior—vocalization—that's worthy of discussion. Red foxes
are credited with numerous different cries, calls, and sounds. Although they don't howl, and aren't as
vocal as their larger relatives the coyotes and wolves, foxes are by no means silent. For instance, they
have a high, shrill alarm bark that is often used to warn the kits of danger once they're old enough to
leave the den.
Our own family has experienced only, at least to the best of our knowledge, one fox vocalization,
and we learned about it in a most unusual way. For years my wife and I would be awakened at times
by a strange, high-pitched sound. At a distance, it sounded almost like a deer snorting, although less
breathy and more vocal. As it drew nearer, it sounded more vocal still; it's a difficult sound to describe,
but is a sort of high-pitched
nyaaaaa, nyaaaaa.
We puzzled over this cry many times over the years,
wondering what creature could possibly be making it.
Our black Labrador, Nate, gave every indication that he regarded foxes as little dogs that he'd dearly
love to play with. Whenever we saw a fox out the window and summoned Nate, he'd wag his tail gently
and whine longingly, then run back and forth between window and door, hoping to be let out— pre-
cisely the behavior that he exhibited when he saw another dog. Having had no direct experience with
foxes, it never dawned on him that the “little dog” might not desire his companionship.
One day, accompanied by Nate, we were returning to the barn with a pickup load of baled hay from
our lower field. There were a couple of electric fence gates that had to be opened first, and as we roun-
ded a corner to open them, we suddenly heard that familiar and mysterious
nyaaaaa, nyaaaaa.
Looking
up, we saw a gorgeous fox sitting in the middle of the farm road, perhaps forty yards away. Even as we
spied the fox, we saw its mouth open and heard the unmistakable
nyaaaaa.
I looked down at Nate. His eyes bulged, and he seemed momentarily paralyzed. Here was his longed-
for playmate, just waiting for him. The moment beckoned. Shaking off his momentary astonishment,
Nate raced toward the fox, which calmly sat there and uttered another
nyaaaaa.
Then, when Nate was
about twenty feet away, the fox leaped up, turned on its afterburners, and departed in a flash of bright
color, Nate in hot pursuit. The result was fore-ordained: Nate was fast, but he was no match for the
speedy, buoyant fox. Some minutes passed before a crestfallen Nate, puffing like a steam locomotive,
reappeared, the desire for the chase wrung out of him by all-out exertion and blighted affection.
This isn't the end of the story, however. That same night, and for several nights thereafter, the fox
came onto our lawn just a few feet from our bedroom window and proceeded to say
nyaaaaa, nyaaaaa
a number of times before going about its business. This had never happened before and never happened
again. Our conclusion was inescapable: with its keen sense of smell, the fox knew exactly who had
