I'm in grave danger of hijacking the thread, but this is what happened this morning.
I'm still doing the fitness thing. Maybe I'm, in denial about getting older, but it gives me a good excuse to be out, on foot, in the cool of the morning. The pack is more-or-less with me, the "less" being when they deviate a little. There are so many smells to investigate. My regular track passes a very big, old log that has been home to fox in the past, but not regularly. This time, tho, I get 50 yards past it and realise that I've lost my company.

Sure enough, Shortie has the occupant bailed up within, and is giving it merry hell, to the vocal accompaniment of the two younger dogs. I have no tools with me, so I con the Jacks out of there - which takes a while - then back off to give the fox an opportunity to bolt. After another ten minutes, I'm getting bloody cold in the early morning breeze so it's drop a broken branch into the entry hole to block it up, and puff my way off home.
The rest of the day was busy, so the fox had a reprieve while the old lady rested a very swollen muzzle. It's no fun after the adrenaline wears off. :(
This morning, it's firewood time, the perfect excuse to have the chainsaw on the ute, along with a few other tools. Cutting a chock out of the log doesn't take long.... and I am promptly told to stand back and let the experts take over.... a certain "exhausted and pathetic" old girl suddenly demonstrating a new level of energy.

Unblocking the entry hole at the front end, soon had a couple of Jacks in behind it, and it attempted to bolt out the new exit. Unfortunately, it came face to face with an impatient Stag.

It often seems to take a little trial and error before Tessa works out that she cannot always follow where the Jacks lead, but it doesn't stop her from trying. After that, it was sit and wait, while the little dogs continued the debate. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, after swapping the Jacks from one entry hole to another a couple of times, the vixen showed signs of wanting to vacate the premises again. With young Jimmy chewing on its bum, I'm not surprised.

This time, I managed to pull the long-dogs back for a brief period, and a very desperate (and deafened) red critter made a bolt.
It didn't work.


Although the old girl was the only one sporting any new scars - a beautiful slash across the top of the muzzle to add to her collection - they each seemed to have a bucketful of adrenaline to work off. A very dead and tatty fox continued to cop a flogging for the next 20 minutes.

I like to let the young dogs work it off, as the ragging seems to reinforce the lesson that they can take on a fox and win. Not a bad little confidence booster, even if they haven't taken any hits.