Two baby foxes
UPDATE 2025-06-09 06:27 +0300: In the original version I described baby foxes as “cubs” but the correct word is “kits”.
This is an excerpt from my journal.
Earlier today, I encountered two fox kits while doing my regular long walk around the mountains. Both of them were hiding under the bushes by the side of the dirt road. Their relatively large eyes fixed on me, while their short snouts were protruding from the foliage. I guess they were waiting for their mother to bring them food. I noticed them from afar but did not change my behaviour. The point was to not startle them. I was curious to learn how they would respond to my presence. My plan was to stick to my path and not disturb them at all, not even by trying to pet them or by making some noise. As soon as they saw me, they stopped moving. Exactly how cats react to some animal that is an unknown quantity to them. The foxes were cautious. Once I got within two metres of them, they ran down the slope until I could no longer see them. Their den must have been somewhere nearby.
About an hour later, I was on my way back home. Instead of going in a circle, as I usually do, I decided to return whence I came. My hope was to meet the babies one last time. Indeed, there they were. Just as sweet as before, if not more so. Still waiting for their mother. Part of me wanted to make an attempt at befriending them. I knew that they are wild animals, their cuteness notwithstanding, and I could probably help them sate their hunger. But would that be the right move? As I was walking past their location, I decided not to engage with them. Wildlife has to be left to its own devices. Were I to tend to them in that moment, assuming I could, I would be denying them of a valuable lesson that life teaches them. They have to be resilient out there: feed off the available prey and operate with the requisite caution to avoid dangers. Above all, foxes must remain wary of people if they are to survive. Humans have probably been a perennial existential threat to them. Some kill foxes for sport while hunting, others do it via entrapment.
What people do is cruel, though I know the underlying propensity is not specific to our species. Competing predators routinely try to exterminate each other to impose their dominion over the given territory. Dogs with a high prey drive, for example, hunt down cats and foxes. Wolves attack lynx, dogs, bears, and even other wolves from competing packs. Birds of prey do the same. I frequently witness crows attack eagles. A single crow, which is about four times smaller than an eagle, will engage in mid-air combat, and will hold its own while it waits for reinforcements. Eagles are vulnerable in the air and must always retreat in such cases. They are not nimble enough to manoeuvre in tight circles and thus cannot inflict any damage on their assailants without risking a lethal drop. Their effectiveness consists in attacking land-based targets using their mighty talons and incredible momentum. A crow, by comparison, has a wider range of motions and will use its beak while flying to cause harm to its target. It cannot hunt nearly as effectively though and must thus scavenge for food. This is how it is here. Even plants are ruthless in their own ways. I understand the underlying mechanics at play. Nature made it so we are faced with trade-offs.
Still, there is a better way to go about deterring our animal competitors. We do not need to hunt down foxes. Having a couple of dogs protect, say, the hen house is enough. A fox cannot overpower even a single medium-sized dog. No chance! They are closer to the size of an average cat. Some may even be smaller than that, given that their long fur contributes to their apparent volume. Foxes are not strong. They have to hunt using guile, as opposed to a dog which relies more on brute force and explosiveness. The hen house can also be better protected, such that no predator may access it. Furthermore, we can leave more space for wildlife to thrive outside our settlements. If, say, the fox can find food further away from where humans live, then it has no pressure to come our way.
The more I learn about our world, the more humble I become. I keep realising how each case is an admixture between the analytical extremes. On the one hand, I wish I could cuddle those baby foxes—they were so cute! On the other hand, I am well aware of the fact that I would not hesitate to show aggression towards them should the circumstances demand as much. Humans are beasts as well. Perhaps life as such is inherently this way. This is no excuse though to act mindlessly. We have reason and we can use it to control our capacity for violence by better measuring the scale of the challenge, while assessing the prevailing conditions. We can tell, for example, that no fox can seriously endanger our settlements. In this regard, peace is the state of affairs that is current when the dominant party restrains itself. Why? Because we do not need more than what we already have and we do not know what we will be losing if we eliminate all the counterweights to our own.