Fox Returns Single Shoe, Offers No Explanation

A fox has returned a single garden boot to the doorstep from which it was removed eleven weeks earlier, placing it upright, facing the door, and leaving at dusk before anyone could come down. The only witness was the youngest member of the household, who watched the whole thing from the landing window and describes the fox as “very businesslike.” The boot, a left one, has been examined by the family and declared, with some surprise, to be in better condition than when it went missing.

It was taken in June, along with a gardening glove and a small plastic trowel, neither of which has been seen since. At the time, the household blamed the wind, a neighbour’s dog or a lapse in memory. The boot came back noticeably cleaner than it left, with the mud gone from the sole and the laces tucked neatly inside. Nobody in the house has been able to account for this, and the fox, approached at the end of the garden, has declined to explain.

Pressed on the matter, the fox indicated through a long stare that it does not consider itself to have returned anything, on the grounds that the boot had simply finished. Asked what the boot had been doing in the meantime, the fox looked at the hedge for some time and then left, in the manner of a witness who has decided the interview is over. A written request for the return of the glove and trowel has been left on the step, and has so far been ignored.

The household has since moved all remaining footwear indoors. The fox continues to visit most evenings and has been seen sitting on the doorstep where the boot was left, for periods of up to four minutes, which family members describe as either sentiment or planning. The youngest member of the household has begun leaving out one odd sock each night, in the hope of further developments, and reports that the socks are, so far, being accepted.

The story is invented, but its starting point is familiar to many people who share a neighbourhood with foxes. Shoes, gloves, balls and garden toys left outside have a habit of disappearing overnight, and sometimes turn up again a few gardens away, chewed, buried or simply abandoned on a lawn. Young foxes in particular seem to treat anything small and interesting as fair game for carrying off, which leaves plenty of puzzled people standing on the patio holding one shoe.

So if you ever find a single boot on your doorstep that you are sure you lost months ago, there may be no great mystery, only a curious neighbour with four legs and excellent night vision. Bring your shoes in at night if you want to keep them in pairs. And if one does come back cleaner than it left, it is probably best not to ask too many questions. The fox certainly will not answer them.