Fox Hunt

I will never forget that look that the vixen threw from the hole to the four hunters, because this hole in which she was sitting had just been a cave in which she had found safety and refuge, but with shovels they had destroyed it, so that there was no longer any protection from the men with the shotguns, who were grinning at them and confident of victory. Her first, natural impulse would have been to run away, but she couldn’t, because then she would have had to leave her pounding little babies alone, which she could only shield with her body. Would they let themselves be softened, the great men with the deadly rifles? But no, they just laughed maliciously and shot cheerfully, first the vixen and then the babies, cowardly and wickedly. But we have to shoot the foxes, it is said. But that doesn’t mean that it has to be done that way.
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