Foxes and sharing

"Our full humanity is contingent on our hospitality; we can be complete only when we are giving something away; when we sit at the table and pass the peas to the person next to us we see that person in a whole new way." Alice Waters 

Does full humanity hinge also, then, on sharing the world with our fellow creatures? For many years foxes have had a den in the neighboring meadow. They burrowed in where the land suddenly turned vertical, almost like the wall of a surface mine. It's ideal, sheltered by the curve of land, and sunny, running water close by. The horses can't use it, it's way too steep.

Now, since early in the week, two carcasses that look like adult foxes lie on the flat between the den and the little creek. I have seen three kits, and on Thursday evening when I came home at dusk from a meeting, one kit was in the road, terrified-- how easily I could have killed it-- and one a little ahead in the ditch, trotting determinedly forward. They are about the size of cats, their fur still fluffy and babyish. 

Their presence on the road made me suspect those dead animals at the burrow base might be their parents. So yesterday I watched a lot, saw all three kits, saw them come to the mouth of their burrows and look around, lie down, sniff and lick each other, but did not see the tumbling play I have observed before in little foxes.

I have a friend who has a friend who does wildlife rescue. With advice, I planned to feed those babies last evening, since that's their normal time to begin the hunt. When I went there, though-- aahhhhh, sigh of relief!-- there was an adult, and the babies were cavorting about, their every movement telling a story of delight. My poor efforts are not needed today in that way. 

Where is my poor effort needed today? I watch, and learn, and pick up trash as I walk along the road, and tend as best I can. My singular best is a poor thing. It is the sharing of the world in a hospitable way that completes me. And though I am, of course, human, my world is bigger than us. Yours is too, isn't it?