They looked like rats, scurrying around close to the ground, picking up chunks of chicken and dog bones that had not already been snatched. It was quite a contrast to the independent,solitary bright red foxes I have seen in other areas. There were 8 of them, circling around, their dull yellow-red and grey coats almost matching the tan dirt and rocks where the fox feeder had stood there for over 10 minutes, continuously tossing food. It was not a site I was happy to witness. Left alone rats will behave like their kind; and foxes left alone will also behave like nature intended. Because of the influence of the fox feeders, our green belt foxes do not have the appearance and behavior of foxes, but look a darn site more like rat-foxes.
I used to argue with the fox feeders. That did not do any good and just made my nature walks uncomfortable in their presence. But I sure as heck get angry at watching them turn wild animals into semi-domesticated scroungers. Instead I stand and watch their feeding episode, then stand in silence as they finally leave. I believe in the power of silence, since it is in silence I have learned so much of nature on my morning walks, in silence I have listened to the cottonwood leaves rustle in the morning breeze, listened to bird song among the midsummer maturity of cattails, sweetclover, alfalfa, equisetum, prickly poppy, and milkweed. I have stood in silent appreciation observing the shining golden brown-yellow of the spherical salsify seed clusters. And in silent walking through winter, spring, summer, and fall mornings, I have discovered what is important to me, learned what real riches are.
I stand there in silent objection to the fox feeders misguided intentions. They have convinced themselves that the fox need them. I think that in the larger view the fox need them as much as they need the people that walk through the green belt and leave tin cans, plastic bags, and other trash.