Post by Pi on Jun 23, 2008 16:13:23 GMT -5
<It had been almost a month now since Pi had been "liberated" by well-meaning animal rights activists, but frankly he wasn't enjoying freedom too much as of yet. He learned almost immediately that piebald foxes don't exactly fit in to the browns, greens, and golds of the prarie and small patches of woodland that dotted the "wilder" parts of the countryside. What's more, it seemed that farmers hated foxes, and hunters loved them; no matter where he went, it seemed he was always being shot at. He was fast learning that survival meant sleeping at day, hunting at night, and being very, very alert.
Although not utterly starved, the young fox was not as comfortably full as he'd been in the fur farm... which really said something considering that fact that his diet there had been condemned meat and rotting by-products. He'd considered wandering back to the farm to pick at the dead heap or snag some food that may have fallen through the bars, but ultimately decided against it. No matter how much he hated the slim pickings and stressful lifestyle of the wild, he certainly didn't wish to be skinned - which was a good possibility with his coat. Of course, he had learned a few days ago that even wild foxes were caught for fur after discovering a wild female caught in a trap, but his odds were still better out here.
Still, he could use the help of other foxes, someone more survival savvy than himself. His only luck hunting so far was in raiding chicken coops, but he tended to become overwhelmed and kill more than he could eat when the squawking, flapping birds began running around all willy-nilly. Sometimes he'd take so long chasing their fat, awkward little bodies around that a farmer or farm dog would take up and come out on the defensive, leading to close calls a'plenty. Wild game was what he really needed, but frankly he wasn't used to catching anything with a pulse.
Presently, Pi was watching a rabbit hole in the middle of a sprawling cow pasture. Inside the hole was some of that 'wild game' he really ought to be eating, and it had once again proven too fast and too clever for him. Chances were that the cottontail had allready taken off out of an alternate burrow exit, but what did Pi know of these things? He'd been raised in captivity his whole life, and the only rabbits he'd ever seen were the last batch to be gassed and skinned before the fur farmer closed that branch of his operations. It had taken him weeks just to figure out that all the rabbits out here were going to be brown.>
Although not utterly starved, the young fox was not as comfortably full as he'd been in the fur farm... which really said something considering that fact that his diet there had been condemned meat and rotting by-products. He'd considered wandering back to the farm to pick at the dead heap or snag some food that may have fallen through the bars, but ultimately decided against it. No matter how much he hated the slim pickings and stressful lifestyle of the wild, he certainly didn't wish to be skinned - which was a good possibility with his coat. Of course, he had learned a few days ago that even wild foxes were caught for fur after discovering a wild female caught in a trap, but his odds were still better out here.
Still, he could use the help of other foxes, someone more survival savvy than himself. His only luck hunting so far was in raiding chicken coops, but he tended to become overwhelmed and kill more than he could eat when the squawking, flapping birds began running around all willy-nilly. Sometimes he'd take so long chasing their fat, awkward little bodies around that a farmer or farm dog would take up and come out on the defensive, leading to close calls a'plenty. Wild game was what he really needed, but frankly he wasn't used to catching anything with a pulse.
Presently, Pi was watching a rabbit hole in the middle of a sprawling cow pasture. Inside the hole was some of that 'wild game' he really ought to be eating, and it had once again proven too fast and too clever for him. Chances were that the cottontail had allready taken off out of an alternate burrow exit, but what did Pi know of these things? He'd been raised in captivity his whole life, and the only rabbits he'd ever seen were the last batch to be gassed and skinned before the fur farmer closed that branch of his operations. It had taken him weeks just to figure out that all the rabbits out here were going to be brown.>