There we all were, the family gathered for an evening of fireworks in the garden, sausage and mash to keep us warm, the British weather tipping a steady drizzle over us.
The evening ended, everyone went home, leaving my wife and I to clear up. Finally climbing the stairs my wife sniffed the air - 'can you smell something?'
All I could smell was my smoke permeated clothes, and then suddenly it hit me, an awful, pungent aroma. We couldn't work it out, standing there on the landing, until suddenly we both saw a movement, and there it was - a fully grown fox was standing not five feet away in our bedroom doorway, looking at us. My wife shrieked, the fox made a dash for it, and so started a fifteen minute chase around the house - the fox frantically looking for a way out, and me trying to get past it to open first the kitchen, and then the back door. At one point the animal was running back and forth along the top of the kitchen wall cupboards.
I finally got the fox out into the garden, my wife upstairs to bed - sheets and everything else changed, because she said she was sure it had been on the bed, and here I am. There's a faint whiff of scared fox in the air, but otherwise all is calm.
A disabled lady near her had a zig-zag cat run built on the side of a house so that her cat could go in and out of its own cat door on a third floor balcony and she have a visit from one of the local foxes.
FE- you can now expect a daily sniff patrol at the slightest sound and the household cleaning stuff bill will go through the roof 'eau de reynard' lingers.