Nebraskaland

May 2021 • Nebraskaland 45 A big dog rushed into my backyard a few years ago, likely because it saw a red fox puppy playing under the bushes. It let out a deep bark as it saw the adult fox that was watching over the pups. That is when things really got interesting. The adult fox leapt up and raced toward the big boxer — pretty brave for a 10-pound fox. It made a loud bark on its way — a warning that clearly meant for the pups to hightail it to the den. Suddenly my yard was churning with racing canids: orange fur flashing across the yard, faster puppies leaping over their slower siblings, and the other parent fox racing straight toward the big dog from an adjacent yard. The dog had keyed onto the first adult and was chasing it, allowing the second fox time to dart in and disrupt its focus. These adults were working in unison to distract, challenge and divert the dog, giving their pups time to escape. It was an amazing thing to watch. Their technique was perfect, and given the power of an 80-pound dog, they had to be. The dog chased one and then the other as they jumped past, but they dodged deftly each time it got too close. After a minute or so of darting in and dodging out, the owner of the dog was there to get it back on leash. The fox pair had protected all of their pups, also called kits, without so much as a scratch and clearly demonstrated how devoted they are as parents. That was the first of many displays of their commitment that I would witness thanks to this fox couple deciding to den next to my yard for the past six springs. Growing up in rural Nebraska, my dad and I were in a constant, friendly competition to see who could spot wildlife first. So I have spent most of my life scanning field edges, creek bottoms, wetlands or any other habitat where I thought I might see wildlife. My brother often laughs and says, "Wildlife always comes to see you." A few instances of bucks waking me up while taking a "hunting nap," or owls sleeping outside my office window might give one that impression. To be fair, I also spend my time trying to see wildlife — so I always assumed it was a team effort. But having a pair of red foxes raise pups right in my backyard, in the second largest city in Nebraska, really made me wonder. I am the furbearer and carnivore biologist for Nebraska Game and Parks, and red foxes are one of the species that I manage. It seems unlikely that they would raise their pups right off my patio for six years in a row. Serendipity! The first time I knew of foxes in my neighborhood, I heard them before I saw them. I was startled awake at 2 a.m. one January by a periodic and horrific scream coming from right outside my bedroom window. In my tired state, it was hard to imagine what in the world could make a sound like that. I finally looked out the window and saw a fox open its mouth, tighten up its body and project a scream throughout the neighborhood. I actually get dozens of calls each year at Game and Parks Trail cameras placed by the author near the den have helped him count the number of pups. This image captured the mother and all seven pups, her largest litter, in 2017. SAM WILSON

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