Alert Faux News

There's a fox pup running around my neighborhood. I've seen the little bugger three times now, the second time being the most remarkable. He, or she, was relaxing in the middle of the street until my car pulled up, his eyes glowing back at my headlights. I stopped and waited while he pondered the prospect of my going around. Eventually he upped and skedaddled, likely to laze elsewhere. I've only seen him at night, so if I was to deduce such things I'd say he was nocturnal.

There's no mistaking him for a more domesticated canine, this pup has unusally large, pointy ears as well as a short, needle-like snout. His thick coat has a blondish-reddish hue right down to his bushy tail. I'm no fancier but am fairly well-informed as to breeds of dog -- and this ain't no golden retriever. Curious, this, as my neighborhood is rather suburban, as in Leave It To Beaverish, sleepily interwoven throughout the industrialized edge city of Tysons Corner.

Although, having said that, I do remember having been startled a couple of years back when I was walking down a street in Georgetown on my way to the Watergate Hotel. Coming up from behind I could hear the scritchety scritch of what could only be a dog in full throttle, and which just as quickly scurried past me. It was the size of a beagle, maybe a little larger, but had longer, thicker hair.

Whoa! That was no dog.

I realized just then it was the fox -- or a fox -- one of maybe a few that had "terrorized" the locals, thus making for news over the previous couple of weeks that summer: "What Is a Fox Doing in Downtown DC?"; "Man & Nature Clash", etc. Whatever, I thought, it probably just wanted to check out the more interesting nightlife than what Rock Creek Park had to offer.

Alas, no chance of making the Georgetown scene for this little guy. Right behind it, and hot on its heels, a Park Police cop on the sprint as he blew past me, pistol in hand.

"Aw gee," I thought to myself, "poor little fellah!" (No! Not the cop!) I found myself rooting for it to get away when a second cop busted past.

I lost sight of them, then forgot about it. It was when I arrived at the hotel when I heard *CRACK!*, and turned my head in the direction from where I thought I heard the sound.

A long silence. Then *CRACK!*

I read the next day they had cornered the animal up against a building. The first shot got it in the foot. The second put out its lights.

The pup around here doesn't stick around for introductions. I was out for a power walk this evening and saw him about 25 yards in front of me, scritchety scritching across the street and into a bank of tall shrubs along my path. I did an about-face and went home. Not that he wouldn't be more afraid of me than I would be of a small wooded animal looking for a house cat on its own little prowl (one of many reasons, cat lovers, why indoor cats live to be 18, and outdoor cats 1.8), but you never know if it's hungry enough to attempt larger game.

Who needs that?