Hungry

There was about a centimetre of snow on the picnic table in the back garden this morning, but it was too wet to lie on the ground. You can see some snowflakes on Skinny's fur here. He and a smaller fox (a mate?) were eating some of the fallen apples on the lawn. The fruit has been there for ages, so the foxes must be pretty hungry if they're eating them.

Can't resist linking to this song.

Skinny has a bad case of mange on his back legs and rear. It must be a hard life for city foxes – I can't imagine their diet is that healthy.

The birds were a constant today and I filled the feeders twice. I spied starlings, blue tits, great tits, house sparrows, dunnocks, robins, blackbirds, feral pigeons (about 16 of those) and woodpigeons. Why the foxes don't try and grab a pigeon, I don't know. They look like easy pickings to me pecking their way along the lawn, stumbling over each other and grabbing food from each other's beaks. 

I found the ginger cat in Fred's sock drawer under the bed, again. (Fred discovered him there on Friday.) Lumpy socks can't be that comfy, surely.