Rightio - look at the bloody time! Brer Fox must have got home late from the pub and decided to give Mrs Fox one. I think he must have stopped at the curry house on the way home - or maybe even been to the fox equivalent of the Casino or the nightclub. You know what men are like when they get home late and have had a few. They get all romantic and amorous. The liquor that they have imbibed plays tricks on their mind and they think that they have miraculously become Jack Nicholson in that Postman movie when he does that blonde girl on the kitchen table - when in reality they've actually turned into something that more closely resembles Postman Pat. That's fine - I'm all for a healthy sex life- just not right beneath my ground floor bedroom window at 1.30am. Have you ever heard the noises that mating foxes make?
There am I - deeply deeply asleep - and I get woken by a racket that is akin to seventeen witches scraping their long scaley fingernails across a blackboard. At first I though the world was ending - but as I came to I realise what was going on - I admit to being a bit horrified. After all - anywhere within an eighty foot radius of my bedroom is a totally sex-free zone - more's the pity.
I thought that they would stop after a couple of minutes - but no - this particular fox has obviously read McKinsey and Johnson, or maybe it was the drink - but he had some stamina. Lucky old dog. First I opened the window and tried to 'shoo' them away. The male fox (on top - typical!) looked at me as if to say 'yeah - right' and just almost winked at me and carried on!!! Meanwhile Mrs Fox is well onto verse two of her lament (I'm assuming they were married?).
This calls for desperate measures - so the dressing gown goes on and the rolling pin comes out - well actually it's the modern day equivalent of the rolling pin - which is a horse whip - and, no I don't keep whips in my bedroom - well actually I do - but it's not how it looks - that is unless George Clooney stops by and then it would be EXACTLY how it looks - and out I go clutching a whip - not to beat the porn-foxes with - just to wave at them and get their attention.
I dash into the garden, around the laurel hedge and to within two feet of the copulating couple; making a strange shushing noise myself by now - why not join the chorus? and waving my whip. The Male fox - who is clearly getting close to the vinegar stroke, and doesn't want to be distracted, stands up straight on his hind legs -(acrobatic sex?)- and snarls at me ...I was quite scared. I waved the whip again - this time the tip of it right in his face - and with one last nasty bark - he's off. Leaving poor old Mrs Fox prone on the floor without so much as a note with his mobile number scrawled on it, saying 'call me'. With this I realise that she's probably not Mrs Fox at all but some poor unsuspecting Miss Fox who believed his line of "Of course I'll respect you in the morning ". I know he won't call :)
Because let's face it - if they were married they a) wouldn't be doing it at all - let alone mid-week and b) certainly would have waited until they got home and had a nice cup of cocoa and were able to enjoy the comfort of the deluxe double sprung pocketed springs Slumberland that they bought in the spring sale at Debenhams.!!! Married couples don't do 'it' in the outside in the middle of the night - or do they? Well, I never did after I got married. All of those fun things went straight out of the window to be replaced by housework and paying bills, and listening to 'im indoors moaning about life, the universe and everything :)
I'm all for nature and the procreation of the species - whatever species you may belong to - but not in my back yard if you please, and not if you're going to wake me up in the middle of the night when I've got an early start tomorrow (today). The only thing missing was the post-sex cigarette, and maybe the camera crew and the cheesy cheaply produced music that usually goes along with the porn movie industry (not that I would know) :)
Anyway - it's all over now - I wonder if she was satisfied? or disappointed with his performance - I feel that he was one of those 'wham, bam, thankyou Mam' types - and therefore she's better off without him. Anyway - she put her stillettos back on, picked up her handbag and teetered off into the night.
As for me...well I'm off back to bed now to hopefully have a pleasant dream about George Clooney and a horse whip!!
There's never a dull moment around here.