The Battle

For some time now there has been a family of foxes (and by family I mean some bastard pups, 2-3 looser males, and at least one female of bad reputation) living under the carpenter shop down at the railroad. Nothing quite undermines a building like a giant hole (i.e. fox den) under its foundation. So in my naivete I decided that the foxes must go and that I could easily get rid of them. The battle started some time ago. I began by just filling in their den while they were out. After a few times of me filling their den in I figured they would get tired of re-digging it, take their shoddy squirrel skin throw rugs, and go back out into the valley to live. No such luck.

Round 1 to you, Foxes.

Next I tried spreading bleach around the entrance to their den as someone at the BLM told me that the smell of the bleach would drive them away. Apparently I was dealing with the cleanest family of foxes ever. After laying down the bleach it seemed like they invited even more foxes over to live with them.

"You know the weirdest thing happened the other day, someone just cleaned my den for me while I was out."
"I've got to come and see that! I'll be over this afternoon with my less than reputable sister."
"Sure, bring the whole pack with you."

Round 2 to you, Foxes.

Nearing the end of my patience with these foxes I went back to the department of wildlife to try to get them to take the stupid things. I was informed that they didn't want anything to do with foxes as they aren't native and bother everyone's precious pheasants. You see, I'd been operating under the assumption that these dumb things were protected, but now the gloves are coming off. Yesiree, you filthy neck warmers. This episode of Jersey Foxes (Ely edition) is soon to be over! I'm going right for the jugular this time.
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Round 3, TBA...