Excerpt: Foxglove and Queen Anne's Lace

The walk home was relatively quiet, and left me to my thoughts. I walked in the grass, keeping at least 5 feet from the road. Even in mid-day drivers were bold, and the few cars that passed whipped by at speeds that would make any law enforcement frown.

I was about a mile from home, just pass the Greene house — the second to last house before mine — when I heard a whimpering.

The sound it drew me out of my thoughts of forgiving Tilly, of calling her after I called Christie. My eyes focused, and I looked around but didn’t see anything unusual. Then I heard a whimper again. Now that I was focused, I could tell he came from across the road.

My eyes scanned the grass, then landed on the ruddy fur of a fox, its dark eyes stared me down. It yipped once, then the whimper sounded again. A second reddish lump of fur lay behind the sentry. It was hurt. Was the fox who stared me down its mate, I wondered. Was the hurt fox its mother?

I started to move toward the pair of creatures, some memory tugging at the back of my brain — I’d been fascinated with foxes since childhood, and this one was hurt.

I was surprised when the sentry fox didn’t move from its spot as I approached. I had just reached the asphalt when it stood and yipped again. I stopped, not wanting to scare it, and my heart nearly seized as a blue Camery whizzed by at break-neck speed. The fox growled, as if to admonish me, and sat back down. I looked to make sure the street was clear, and quickly crossed to the other side.

The whimpering quieted as I got near, and the fox with the dark eyes kept his place between me and his companion. When I was about five feet from the animals. I stopped, drawing in a sharp breath. The whimpering fox was laying in a circle of grass pressed down by its body. Its shoulder was a bloody mess. It looked like he had gotten clipped by a car flying down the road, but not hit full on. I took a hesitant step toward the foxes, “It’s going to be okay,” I said, my voice soft. The sitting fox raised on it’s feet, and faced off, as if to challenge me. I looked at it, and slowly squatted down.

“Your friend is hurt. I just want to take a look. I might be able to help him, if you let me get closer.”

Dark eyes bore into me once again, and the fox looked for all the world to be contemplating my offer.

“I won’t hurt him. I won’t hurt either of you. Let me help, please?”

The fox on the ground whimpered again, quieter than before, and his guardian turned to look at him. I stretched out one hand, slowly, to the standing fox. He looked at it, then at me. “See, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

He gave a small growl, then backed up a step or two deeper into the grass, so he was beside the hurt fox, and no longer between us. Not wanting to scare the poor thing, I slid down to my knees, and began to crawl forward, making soothing sounds as I went. The fox’s shoulder and side were covered with blood, and I was pretty sure I could see his front paw was broken.

The hurt fox turned it’s head to watch me, causing him to whimper again.

“Shhh boy, it’ll be okay. I know it hurts, but I think I can help you.”

The fox lay it’s head back down with a small yip. As I got within distance that I could reach him, the other fox moved in to stand on the other side of his wounded companion.

He watched as I lay my hand on the wounded foxes side. This drew a whimper from the hurt fox, and a growl from his companion. “Sorry, I have to see how far the damage it. It’s hard to tell will all the blood.”

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, as I looked at the wound. It could be really bad, or it could be something that could be fixed. My mom and I had dogs ever since we moved out to the country, and the sad fact was we had more than one injury due to the speed demons on the road. I really hoped it was something we could mend.

The sentry fox growled, and nipped at my hand, and I withdrew it from the soft fur. He sat down, and started to clean the area around the wound. I blinked, and watched him work. Had he really understood what I’d said? Was this some sort of instinct, clean the wound before - the wounded fox would not be able to reach his own side in the state he was in, so his companion would take over, surely.

With some of the blood gone I could finally see that the fox was only wounded on his shoulder, and the broken paw. He whimpered again as his companion cleaned the source of blood. It looked more like a bite or hunter’s trap wound than damage done by a car. I looked around and saw the grass was depressed in a few other spots, coming from the woods that ran along the side of the road. The foxes had made their way to the roadside, until the wounded one could go no further. To what, find help?

I reached toward his side again, and the sentry fox took a step back, and sat to watch me. The cuts didn’t look too bad, but walking on his leg had probably done some damage. My mind raced to what materials we had a home to splint his leg. The number for the vet was on a magnet on the fridge, but not in my cell phone.

My hand drifted up to the wounded fox’s head. I leaned closer, a little over him, so he could see me without moving. “I think I can help. We can clean it up at least, and maybe get a splint on your leg. But I have to pick you up.”

I looked up to the other fox. “I have to take him to my house. Its that way,” I said, looking up the street. He growled low, and lay down on all fours.

“It’s not safe for you here. I have to take him if you want him to get better. You can come too, I wouldn’t ask you to leave him.”

The wounded fox whimpered again, and the other one looked at him, gave a small yip. Then he stood, and gave his companion one last lick on the shoulder, and then backed up. I figured that was his way of giving consent.

I looked back at the wounded fox, and said, “I’m going to pick you up, now. I think the easiest way for me to carry you will be over my shoulder, but it’s probably going to jostle your leg a little. I’m sorry.”

I leaned over, and slid one hand under his rear legs. He lifted his head a little, and I got my other arm under his undamaged shoulder. He I shifted, and lifted him up, trying to jostle him as little as possible. I managed to get him up, and got his good leg over my left shoulder, one arm under his back legs, the other on around his back. He whimpered a little, and my stomach clenched. “Sorry,” I whispered.

I took a step forward, and I looked to find his companion. The sentry fox was a few paces ahead of me, and a bit to the side, where I could see him without turning. He yipped, and turned to look up the road.

I nodded, and started the walk home. Between the sentry fox constantly turning to glare at me for every whimper from his companion, and the weight getting steadily heavier in my arms, it was the longest mile I have ever walked.