On my way to the car in the morning I see that the fox has once again broken into our bin. I say “broken into” but he’s just figured out how to unlock it by lifting the handle. I personally oversee its locking every night, and every morning I find it upside down and empty.
I count myself lucky for two reasons: I’ve just learned that our neighbour woke up last week to find the fox in his bedroom; and I’m going away for the weekend. The band I’m in has two gigs in Devon, so for two nights the fox and the bin will not be my problem.
