Log Cabin Quilt Top
2 months ago
Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
As people living here in the UK know, there will soon be a Parliamentary vote to relax the ban on fox hunting. You know with the title of this post where I stand on this issue: fox hunting is a cruel, barbaric, backward pseudo-sport enjoyed by cruel, barbaric, backward people who hide their uncivilized, crass, vulgar nature behind family wealth and often titles. Like Prince Charles, a prime example of the rich and thick, who threatened to leave the country if the ban was maintained. Please do, Charles! Foxes are part of British wildlife and far more useful to its ecosystem than that parasitic, inbred family of yours. In any case, they are not for your sadistic enjoyment, or your dogs. You little, little man. And Mr Cameron, you are a coward by pandering to those brainless, bloodthirsty idiots.
I blogged before about the menagerie on the railway I travel every day to go to and back from work. The cats at the station where I wait for my train home especially, but also the pheasant. And there are rabbits, deers, other things too I haven't blogged about yet. Yesterday evening, a new fellow showed up: a red fox. They are very common here in the UK, I remember seeing them very often around the university residences where I lived. I loved seeing them, foxes being among my favorite animals. I cannot remember the last time I had seen one live. When I heard him ruffling in the shrubbery, I thought at first it was one of the cats, then he came out of the open. I could see him very well for a few moments, he was very close. But only for a few moments. He looked at me, I looked at him. I had this brownish orange-red colour (red foxes are never red, they are more orange foxes really) and I think he had something in his mouth, maybe a black bird, maybe some rodent. Or maybe he had nothing. When I tried to take a picture he moved away, then he started walking on the tracks, so all I could get of him was this shot. He is the brown blur on the right rail. The fox carried on walking away from the station, while the train was coming, just as oblivious as the cats seem to be in the same situation. But it made my day.