Sidetracked

When I looked up from splitting wood the fox was watching me from the edge of the clearing. I went inside and got her an apple, rolled it over in her direction and went back to work. She watched me for a while longer, then walked over to the apple and plopped down on her belly, holding it with her front paws. She's a dainty eater. She visited now and again, during the course of the day. At lunch I had a sardine sandwich on toast, with thick slices of onion, and I saved a bite of it for her. When I went back outside I put the nibble where she had eaten the apple and went about my chores. When she came out, later, I had the sense that she enjoyed it, though I hardly claim to be able to read the body language of foxes, human beings are still a mystery to me, but she did a little jig. Probably just the mustard. I only thought about giving her part of a sardine sandwich because one winter on the north shore of Cape Cod, living on a grant from the NEA, I spent several weeks watching a blue fox, in white winter coat, eating minnows in a tidal estuary. Foxes are omnivores. Which, to me, is the only thing to be. Not just omnivorous, but opportunistic. All these years later I still eat minnows, cooked a couple of different ways, as a satay, with a squeeze of lemon and a peanut sauce, or with a tempura batter, fried quickly. Minnows are usually carp, and when they're young, you can eat their bones. I have to wash dishes, before I can fix dinner, all of my implements are dirty.