Not a fox

When we got up this morning we found a trail of muddy footprints around the veranda. A fox, perhaps? Then we heard a man’s voice calling ‘Fluffy, Fluffy, come on Fluffy’. This went on for quite some time until finally Fluffy and her owner were reunited and the calls ceased. So we think our ‘fox’ was actually a fluffy dog that had run away from home. A pity, a fox would have been more interesting.