Smart As A Fox

SMART AS A FOX

Whenever he finished a job in the west end of the valley Doc would always drive the long way back home, detouring through Balboa Park. He did so because it lifted his spirits to see the bikers, joggers, hikers and golfers exercising a healthier lifestyle in this protected environment. During the week, if his work was finished early enough, he would turn left off Burbank Boulevard and onto Woodley, the street that bisected this massive tract of land.

This four lane avenue divided more than just the park. It served to distinguish the varied usage the acreage was designed for. To the west of Woodley were the bicycle and jogging paths, tennis courts, soccer fields, golf courses and Lake Balboa. To the east the park was home to the Botanical Gardens, secluded picnic areas and the large wildlife preserve.

Doc’s routine seldom varied because it addressed his own personal needs. He would park on the unpaved shoulder to relax, read through the morning paper and then stroll down to the river bank.

As he pulled the Entertainment section from the paper he noticed something moving through the shrubs across the street. At first he thought it was a large, shaggy, reddish-brown dog, probably lost or homeless. By shading his eyes to shield them from the setting sun he noticed the animal had stepped partially out of bushes and it’s front paws were on the shoulder. What he was seeing was a fox, a red fox, the first one Doc had ever seen in person in nature.

Although there were at least a dozen vehicles parked along the shoulder on the wildlife preserve side of Woodley his was the only one occupied and the fox stared directly at him. After a few intense seconds the fox, perhaps instinctively, discounted this human spectator as a possible threat and focused it’s attention on it’s mission.

Remaining as motionless as possible Doc studied this beautiful creature as it appeared to be calculating the speed and tempo of the on-coming traffic on it’s side of the street. It’s head followed the motions of each passing vehicle and it actually seemed to be gauging the varied distances between each on-coming vehicle. There were several false starts as it’s paws touched the pavement, but it quickly pulled back. Finally, during a comfortable break in the flow, the fox trotted across the two lanes to the safety of the dividing island.

Safely on the dirt and shrub covered island the fox stared at Doc one last time, again only for a few seconds, as if to say this human was not a serious concern to it. Then it focused on the north bound traffic turning left from Burbank Boulevard. Repeating it’s cautionary calculations, it waited until there was a lull in the flow and scampered across the remaining two lanes. And within an instant it had darted between two parked cars, slipped through the split-rail fence and vanished into the heavier foliage in the wildlife reserve.

It didn’t take a lot of pondering of what he had just witnessed for Doc to understand why the phrase ‘smart as a fox’ was justified. It also didn’t require profound thought to comprehend why, during his long lifetime of driving down country roads, city streets and highways littered with the roadkill of far less intelligent animals, he never saw a dead fox lying on the pavement.

What Doc had trouble rationalizing was why many so-call advanced humans were being killed or seriously injured, like arrogant or clueless jaywalkers, carefree children chasing a ball into the street or pedestrians distracted while texting or yapping on the phone, because they couldn't manage to act at least as smart as a fox.

Reviews

[roarke]

A modern Aesopian parable. The answer might go back to primitive times, the lessons now regrettably forgotten. I've never seen a dead fox in the road either. Remarkable thought. This short tale just sets right in the telling. Glad there are a few sappy sapiens still around to tell such learnings.

[Marie]

Very interesting, and a good lesson taught. Why shouldn't people be at least as smart as foxes?