- The Guardian, Monday December 27 1999
Occupation: Scavenging.
Social status: Upwardly mobile, a growing migration from country to town.
Ecological status: Cars kill them in towns; hunts slay them in the country.
Why do wise foxes stockpile lots of chicken takeaways at Christmas? Because they'd be stupid to venture out on the biggest day in the hunt calendar.
Are they glad many of our 185 hunts will be helping them run off a bit of seasonal fat today? They don't mind the exercise, but they're not keen to be torn to bits by hounds or gassed in their homes.
So there'll be a lot of blood spilled? Yes, but the foxes could just be lucky; the biggest fracas will probably be between hunt-persons and sabs.
Surely New Labour promised a happy Christmas and a safe new year for all foxes? Tony has out-foxed them. There could be a bill outlawing hunting with hounds, but who knows when.
Can't foxes count on anyone at Westminster? They have a new best friend: Red Ken.
Ken Livingstone, newt fancier and MP for rural Brent East? Mock not. With Tally-Ho!-Tony wanting to drive him out of London's mayoral race, Ken empathises with doomed creatures of all stripes.
All right, but how's he going to help foxes? He's promised to sponsor a private member's bill to ban hunting with dogs.
Surprising Tory friend of foxes: Ann Widdecombe.
Surprising Labour enemies of foxes: Sir John Mortimer; Baroness Mallalieu.
Thirsty foxes drop into: The Fox and Grapes.
Arty foxes go to the opera to see: Janacek's The Cunning Little Vixen.
Trendy urban foxes go to: The Millennium Dome; construction workers spotted them inside the big tent, getting a preview, a month ago.
Not to be confused with: Sam Fox, Fox's Glacier Mints, the foxtrot.
