Mexborough and Swinton Times October 7, 1938
“Flossie” The Fox Samples Mexborough’s Night Air
Hounds were not on the scent around Mexborough this week. If they were, ‘Flossie’ was too cunning for them.
I found the luckiest animal in South Yorkshire the other day, curled contentedly before the fire, taking things easily after an ordeal which lasted almost two days.
Flossie is a six-months-old fox owned by Mr. and Mrs. E. B. Popple of 42, Alexander Road, Mexborough. She is about three feet long from the tip of her brush to the tip of her very long mask,and has peculiar colourings. Her body is tawny with a suspicion of red, and her brush is a magnificent flaming bush that sweeps and curls on the slightest provocation. The tips of the sharp, pointed ears are dark brown to match the legs. To complete the symmetry she has small white patches on either side of her face.
She is as affectionate as any pet dog although she has definite views about earning a living. Flossie was brought to her new home only on Sunday evening, and a few hours later was being put to bed in the garage when, by a freak of nature, the door flew open—Flossie took a ‘chance. In the first breath-taking excitement she would trace the unfamiliar ground, trot along, sniffing her way, quite happily unaware of the many dangers waiting baby foxes who roam the streets at night. But darkness was her ally. The town was deserted. Dogs chased foxes —only in dreams—and night sealed the eyes of the watchful police. Cats shrank from this foreign creature.
But with the dawn, what became of Flossie? That is and always will be, a mystery. In the daylight she must have risked her life a hundredfold, for a domestic fox can never realise the perils of her wild brother’s life. Perhaps she would have sufficient cunning to secrete her tell-tale ears and brush in a hedgerow.
Happily Flossie’s adventure ended in a comedy. During the second night of her truancy the errant one was spotted by a policeman on duty in the Wath Road area and duly dumped into a laundry basket and taken to the station to be called for the next day by her relieved owners. Ignominious as her capture might have been it was a far better conclusion than a tragic drama.
Now Flossie plays quietly in the precincts of her home, unaware of the intrepidity of her week-end “off”. She has had her break and is determined to settle down to domestic environment and all its comforts.