We had a fox last week. Not far from the edge of the chicken yard where the birds come and go as they please, I discovered a wing, a part of a wing and a single foot. All of the bone cuts were made with almost perfect precision. About six weeks ago Al had seen a fox going through a pasture one night. Amy, one of the livestock guardian dogs, was still in her stall in the old barn where we put her so that she can eat undisturbed. We cautioned Katy that the dog must be let out shortly after her dinner from now on and she was out that night but apparently this little creature slipped by her. Almost a week has passed without another incident that we are aware of. This is the down side of truly free-range chickens and, although we never like to lose so much as a single one, the other three hundred or so are still safe and we're doing a little late-night fox hunting.