Thanks for the tips (and the laughs). I especially loved the suggestion of raising a puppy for a few years as a friend of the fox, hoping one day it would betray its friends.
Turned out to be a little easier. Mr Fox walked past my window this morning and into the woods. By the time I had my gun he was 100 yards off, but he stopped and turned when he heard me open the door, and that was his last mistake. Apparently it wasn’t his first mistake, since I found he had only three legs. Anyway 165 grains from a .30-06 proved to be more serious than whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into before.
Sucks and chickens are safe, and I’ve got a nice fox tail curing in denatured alcohol.
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