He was with us for just about 12 days, ending up just where I found him and just how he would have died had I not intervened. He spent his first three days with me inside my sweatshirt, sleeping and wriggling around when it was time to be let out to eat or poop. On day 2 he played with my hands inside my shirt, pawing and play biting at my fingers. Around day 3 he stopped trying to limp into the woods when I let him out of my shirt. On day 5 he found his home under our futon and he started to play with the kittens and the dogs like family. At the same time he started putting on weight, probably doubling in size over the next 8 days. He stopped being aggressive completely, started letting me pick him up at any time and learned how to hide from the dogs if they got too rough with him. Around day 8 he began acting like a house pet and followed Rudy everywhere he went. He stopped sleeping all day and started spending time outside and sleeping in Rudy’s bed. He started stealing my shoes, old papers, water bottles and tennis balls, all ending up in stashes around the house. He found himself a perch on a pile of blankets where he could watch the door and dart to safety under the futon if someone he didn’t know came in. He followed us on short walks around the yard and into the pastures. He looked at me when I called his name. He scratched at the door to go outside. He snuggled into my neck when I picked him up and shared a bowl of food with the cats. The magic of finding a wild baby fox and then, inch-by-inch, gaining his trust and love all seemed too powerful for anything to stop. Of course we had this new critter, this perfect companion, after all we had done for such a variety of animals already. It all just made karmic sense.
Until it suddenly stopped. Lucky found his curious way back into the donkey pen where I found him on day 1 and this time the donkeys killed him. He wasn’t mangled, just dead and still warm when Kate found him. Each day leading up to that day I thought it might not work out, he might ‘turn wild’ and leave us, or kill one of the cats, or start peeing everywhere in the house. But that day I was sure, so sure, he was here to stay. When he was ready he was going to hunt mushrooms with me. He was going to walk to neighbors houses with us. He was going to love us as much as we loved him and seamlessly join our merry band of silly creatures. He was going to live for 10 or 15 years, growing up with our future children and be there when Rudy dies, having learned so much from that old mutt to pass on to the next puppy. But no, instead he had to die, leaving me full of doubt but mostly just sadness. I miss him so much. I try to think that I gave him 12 days of comfort and love but I mostly just think I should have been a better parent. I don’t care that I merely had the chance to love him, I still want to love him. He left a hole in my heart that I didn’t know I needed to fill.
The night he died the house was struck by lightning three times. I think the mountain gods were pissed at me, or perhaps shared in my rage against Lucky’s death. Either way the lighting killed our phones and internet, which let us simply exist for three days without having to talk to anyone really. It was nice to mourn like that. But I would do anything to rewind, to bring him back into my life and just smell that fox smell again against my cheek, or wafting up from the womb of my sweatshirt. I’ll never get the chance again to father a fox like that. It just further solidified my belief that we are all equals, he was just such a regular baby when I found him. Eat, sleep, poop, repeat. And he bonded with me like I never imagined. And now I dream about him, feel pain when I look at the hay bale he used to sleep on or hear the donkeys bray. God I miss him so much. He’s buried in the pasture next to the house. I think today I’m ready to visit his grave.
i am so sorry to hear this
I am so sorry about your sweet little fox. I found myself eager to check your blog and Kate’s to see of any fox updates and pictures. My heart hurts for you both. It’s nice to know there are such kind people in the world who would without hesitation take in a wild fox and care for and love him. You and Kate are pretty special people.
what a wonderfully sad post. i am so sorry to what happened to Lucky
i lost my little dog in a terrible way like that. something i never would have meant, but i could have prevented. it is hard to forgive yourself, it took me a long time to stop thinking about what i “should” or “could” have done. but it can’t be helped now. it is nice that your little fox had almost two weeks of you, feeding him and loving him and giving him a sweet life. i’m so sorry to hear about your loss. you’ll probably never forget that sweet little kit.
I gasped and cried when I read about Lucky Fox over on Kate’s blog. And now readin your story here my heart pangs and feels heavy.
I think unfortunately death is death and theres not any way to talk it better or easier. As many sayings about how wonderful to have spent 12 days together, doesn’t make up for the fact you won’t be spending 12 years together. I hear your pain and loosing your baby – for that’s indeed what he was.
The only thing about death is that you simply learn to live with it – always a hole and a pang in your heart and soul. Humans are strong and resilient and move forward easily – but I also think its important to honour and remember and cherish this hole in your heart.
Wishing you peace and tender memories of your sweet fox baby
so sorry for your loss, Nick and Kate. thank you for sharing your beautiful life with us.
nick. i read this and cried & then read it again and cried some more. i am so sorry for your loss. thank you for sharing your heart. my gosh… you’re a good man. with a good lady. and i’m thinkin’ of you both, tonight & always.
i am so so touched by your words. brought to tears. i watched in wonder, from brooklyn i might add, as you brought him into your lives and into mine. we truly are are all equals, but that bond you developed was magic. i am so sorry for you loss.
I find myself completely miserable tonight. I almost lost my mom last week. We’re not close and I found myself being strong for everyone while they were falling apart. I feel more emotion regarding this sweet little fox than I can express. To me, animals touch a place that humans don’t. I know that must sound so callus. I’m thinking about you and have a huge thump in my throat as I turn in. I wish you peace. Much love, Sheryl
Love what you wrote .. I had never read anything about a fox other than in fairy tales or Beatrix potter to my children. Thank you for sharing this. I wish all good things for you, sorry for your loss. Best – R
The gift that you gave Lucky, you have given to all of us. Thank you so much Nick, for all the love you and Kate spread in this world. We are so grateful for Lucky and for you. We love you.
Please keep loving and writing about the animals on your farm- both wild and tamed, adopted or grafted in by a miraculous occurrence–like your little fox was. I kept talking about your little fox to my family and eagerly looked for updates. So I’m so sad to hear of his death, and your loss.
There will be more stray or abandoned animals to love and care for, I’m sure of that. Keep telling us about them. We are all ears, and open hearts.
You should feel guilty. He was a wild animal that shouldn’t have been treated as a fairy tale come true to live in your all-but-ordinary dreamland. He could have gone on to live a healthy and happy life had you surrendered him to someone who would have kept him safe and healthy, who would have known how to properly care for him. Instead you were selfish and now he is dead. Karma, indeed? I hope this teaches you a lesson in humility and to respect the nature and wildlife that you seem to care so much about. That poor baby would have been dead without your intervention the first time and because of your own selfish wants and human needs, your inability to let go of a fantasy, he is dead now. You never saved him at all. Rest peacefully, Lucky.
sorry dude…that was one cool little fox…he somehow touched my life even though I only saw pictures and read words…a powerful little symbol…thanks, and again, sorry it went down that way.
I’m so very sorry for the loss of your sweet lucky little fox. You obviously shared a very special bond, and it’s admirable of you to open up your heart to him so freely. And very brave to share it with us here – thank you for that. I hope you are kind to yourself and that you find some peace through your grief.
-Jaime
I am so sorry to hear Lucky is gone. And I am so moved by the beauty and honesty of your posts about the brief life of, and your love for, Lucky. I stumbled across your (and Kate’s) blog a couple of weeks ago and became a little obsessed with the photos of Lucky, and found myself regularly checking in to hear news of his adventures. I admire the life you have chosen and the love and respect you show for your animals.
Ugh. I work in a pet supply boutique and last week someone brought in a baby, domesticated fox. I got so excited and remembered that I had not checked in on your blogs and Lucky in a while.
I am so sorry.
I am sorry for your loss. I have reading a lot about foxes lately having seen some while walking outside. The more you read the more you want to actually know one. Which you did. I have been reading about people owning foxes as pets. I could not own one know because I do not have the space or time needed. But you do. Maybe you can look into getting a kit from a breeder sometime in the future. No one then can complain about you acquiring it from the wild. I would definitely enjoy reading about your experiences as well as others.
My stomach turned completely sour when I saw the title of this post on Friday and I’ve been mulling it over in the back of my mind since. I first read about (and saw pictures of) Lucky on Kate’s blog a few weeks ago and instantly fell in love with him. My heart goes out to you guys for what you are probably going through right now. If I loved lucky through a screen without ever holding him or caring for him, I truly can only imagine how much more you loved him.
I’ve been praying for you guys, for healing, hope and the joy of remembering the time you had with Lucky. I don’t know if you’d welcome this or not, but I’ll also be praying for another fox to come your way. Know this most of all, it’s not your fault and Lucky loved you. Thanks both to you and Kate for sharing your story, it’s been quite a blessing to me.
So very sorry to hear this – what a sweet and moving story, and I wish it hadn’t had to end so soon. But the memories of Lucky you will keep for always. Thank you for sharing your story.
Sara’s comment above misses far the point of Lucky’s brief time with you; rather such a comment is the antithesis of your actions. Your intervention in Lucky’s life showed your true humaneness and deep respect for universal life, and Lucky reponded to this respect with his engaged interaction with you and the other animals
If indeed Lucky possesed a soul, as I believe all animals do, then he has carried yours and Kate’s affection to another plane. And if not, still, most of us who have followed your story with Lucky have clearly gained immeasurably. You and Kate are true animal whisperers and your good works enrich us all.
Animals have their own lives…we can only ever do our best, please forgive yourself. I live in dairy country in Australia and there are generations of feral cats living in the dairies around here. I rescued a tiny kitten who had been calling outside for hours, I guess sepreated from its family. It tried to scratch my face off when I first picked him up, I assumed he may never be domesticatable but he promptly rolled over and showed me his tummy after I gave him a feed!
I think that is the difference between rescuing a baby in need and taking a wild animal and trying deliberately to domesticate it – they know you helped them and they immediately see you as surrogate parent. (in fact we all became instant family, including the dog) That is why it also hurts so damned much when something happens to them. I’m really sorry for your loss, I understand how quickly you get attached to something in that kind of situation.
When my boy went missing 6 months ago I was absolutely inconsolable. It still hurts but the rawness fades. My relationship with him was amazing, though far too short and I will remember him forever.
My heart goes out to you.
Crying like a baby. I just clicked over from Kate’s blog, where I was already teary-eyed, and this just did me over. What a beautiful and heart-breaking story. I’m mourning with you.
And please know that you and Kate are incredible people, with such lovely hearts. You did the best you could.
So sorry to hear this after I just saw the really cute picture of the three of them for the first time today. I’m glad you had him in your life.
Hi. I just saw the pic of Lucky with Rudy and the kitten for the first time today, so naturally I had to find the source and see if there was more. I was shocked and really sad to see this blog entry — not as sad as you must be, but I still feel it. I’m really sorry this happened, but I’m glad he had the pleasant time with you that he did, and that you did your best for him. Fostering wild animals does seem to be bittersweet.
I found your blog through Cute Overload, and I must say, while this story made me cry at my desk at work, that picture will live in cute infamy forever. I am sure Lucky enjoyed his days with you, and even though I am not religious, I always say a little prayer for the souls of animals when they pass on, because they are the innocent dwellers of the earth who we humans often ignore and push aside as lesser creatures. I am glad you cared for him in his time of need, and it sounds like he cared for you because of it. I just brought home a new little puppy 5 days ago who was living in filth with 20 other dogs, whose little face I could not resist. In this short time she has bonded with my bunny and my chihuahua, and I can only imagine her departing from our family too soon. Take solace in the fact that Lucky lived out his last days feeling safe and happy with you and the fur kids. I’m sure he is running through the woods right now somewhere – bless his little fox heart and both yours and Katie’s too.
I was stunned to read of Lucky’s passing. so quickly after being rescued. And to go back into the donkey pen, it seems like some kind of cruel destiny. I can only think that God gives us these moments to show us what the possibilities are. Bless you for sharing.
The day after I decide to work on commenting on blogs rather than just lurking, I stumble upon this. Of course. I never know what to say around death.
Just met your little guy a few days ago (on the twitter), and I’m sad for your loss, too.
You have a gift for writing.
I feel so sorry for you and for Lucky.
Your post made me cry for both of you.
So sorry to hear of your loss. If it is any consolation, I do believe that life continues, it moves forward, that your beautiful fox is finding a new life, a new body. You did love him, gave him companionship and care, that comes back, that does help future. The beautiful being is alive, will continue anew. Life is like that, when we care and create for another, this moves onward. Look around, and trust your feelings.
I’m really really sorry. :’(
This saddens me. I mean…I think we’ve all wanted a fox as a pet since we watched “A Fox and a Hound” haha. They’re beautiful, amazing animals.
But, as sad as it is…it might be for the best for you and your family as it is a federal crime to keep a fox without a license. So, should another venture into the donkey pen and you rescue it to raise it…check into getting a license just to be safe.
Best wishes to you and your family because I know it must be hard losing such a precious little guy.
Now I have tears in my eyes. Your doing a good job in life for others, have no regrets, I would have done the same.
this broke my heart. i can feel your love for lil baby lucky and i know how much it must still hurt. i’m so sorry. he was blessed for 12 days to have a family like yours, and he’s probably still carrying that light around.. full of love.
How heartbreaking. This post made me cry so very hard. Poor little fox.
Aw, Nick. I feel you on this one. I was trolling LinkedIn, because Peter Rumsey finally got around to adding me as a contact, and was wondering what you were up to. Located your web site. For some reason, I grativated to this post, first. In Lucky’s death, you have lived, loved and been unconditionally loved back. Transformed. Bless-up!
Nick, I’m just so sorry to hear about Lucky. Only yesterday, I came across your picture of the threesome on facebook, with no photo credit, and decided to repost it to our Danny & Ron’s Rescue page. In the process of doing some research for a photo credit, found you and your story. In turn started to read your great blog and came upon this post. So … sadly, you have to relive his sad passing as your photo makes the rounds again. Honestly, I almost don’t want to send people here, for your sake. Does that make any sense? Lucky was lucky to ‘find’ you. He had 12 amazing days … in fox years that’s a damn long time!