Audio Podcast 3 minutes

Good morning, readers. Let me tell you a little tale about Fred—the neighborhood fox who has, over time, become something of a local celebrity around here. Fred isn’t just any fox. He’s got personality. He’s got charm. And he walks these foothill streets like he’s the unofficial mayor of the block.

Fred first showed up a 4 summers ago, trotting down the sidewalk with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where he was going. Tail high, ears perked, eyes bright—he had the look of a fox who had places to be and opinions about how quickly he should get there. The neighbors noticed him right away. You don’t ignore a fox who behaves like he owns the HOA.

Over time, Fred developed a routine. Every morning, just after sunrise, he’d make his rounds. He’d pause at the corner house where Mrs. Callahan leaves out a bowl of water. He’d sit for a moment in the shade of her lilac bush, as if reviewing the day’s agenda. Then he’d trot down the street, stopping occasionally to inspect a flower bed or stare curiously at a lawn ornament that hadn’t been there the day before. Fred likes to stay informed.

One of my favorite Fred moments happened last July. I was sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee when Fred strolled up the driveway like he had an appointment. He stopped at the bottom step, looked at me, and gave a single nod—as if to say, “Morning. Hot one today. Stay hydrated.” Then he continued on his way, leaving me with the distinct impression I’d just been given advice by a fox.

Adults adore him. Even the dogs seem to respect him. There’s something about Fred that brings out the best in everyone. Maybe it’s the way he moves—calm, unhurried, completely at ease in his own fur. Maybe it’s the reminder that even in a busy neighborhood, nature still wanders through, checking on us from time to time.

This year, as the hot days of summer settle in, Fred has adjusted his schedule. He’s a dawn‑and‑dusk fox now, avoiding the midday heat like a seasoned local. I saw him just yesterday, stretched out under the shade of a pine tree, looking for all the world like he was on vacation. If foxes could wear sunglasses, Fred would.

There’s something comforting about having him around. He reminds us to slow down, to pay attention, to enjoy the simple things—a cool patch of shade, a quiet morning, a familiar path. Fred doesn’t hurry. He doesn’t worry. He just lives, fully and confidently, right where he is.

And maybe that’s why we love him so much. Fred is a little piece of wildness, a little spark of joy, a reminder that even in a world full of noise, there’s still room for wonder.

Not a bit of truth to this tale