Frances Pitt's 'Toby, My Fox-cub' 1929

 

Arrowsmith first edition - 1929

Another Fox story; in fact, a third one from Frances Pitt, who wrote Tommy White-Tag (see my Blog for 21st February this year) and Scotty. The Adventures of a Highland Fox (my Blog of 24 December 2024). It is Volume Nine in The Library of Animal Friends, which, so far, were stories by Pitt and Cherry Kearton. The book was clearly written for children, above all to encourage them to learn about and respect wild life.

Pitt saved two cubs - the mother and four other cubs had gone where all creatures must go sooner or later. The surviving cubs were but two days old, very small, blind and perfectly helpless. With their snub noses, blunt muzzles, their short, woolly, dark coats, little rat tails, no longer than my little finger, and small ears flat to their heads, they could only be compared to very very young kittens. One of the attractions of the book is the black and white photographs taken by the author; the one opposite the text just quoted shows she had described them accurately.

The author does not really explain why a female cub is called Toby (it looked like the drawing of Toby-dog on the cover of Punch), but does say she was the most mischievous little imp that ever ran on four legs. Unfortunately, her brother Jack did not survive - he refused to suck, and seemed listless. His little nose was dry, instead of soft and damp... Pitt goes into some detail as to how she fed the cubs - at regular three-hours intervals with the warmest, richest cow's milk - and kept them warm next to a hot water bottle. Toby was not interested in eating rabbit, until Pitt gave her a piece with fur attached! Then, there was no stopping her!

The next few chapters follow the cub growing up, in size but not in goodness. She devoured Pitt's father's bootlaces and was a self-contained  little creature, independent, and as disobedient as any spoilt child that ever walked. She had no notion of coming because she was called. She was more like a cat in her ways than a dog. The two pet dogs endured Toby rather than enjoyed her company. She took greatest delight in teasing and annoying them. She loved to be petted, especially by the author's mother. Once her timidity of venturing outside left her, she was everywhere. There was a standoff with the large black-and-white tom cat, Spitfire, who had to be chained to a dog-kennel due to long time misbehaviours! Like all bullies, the latter soon found a mistress who proceeded to tease her remorselessly.

Of course, the inevitable (rightly) happens. In two chapters - The Call of the Wild and Toby in the Wild Woods - the young vixen leaves the comforts of her artificial home for the natural environment of her species. Frances Pitt cleverly uses odd scraps of evidence - half eaten rabbits, foot/paw prints, fox fur on barbed wire fencing, to surmise what and where Toby was up to.  Yes, Toby was handicapped, badly handicapped, by her upbringing, but every moment more and wild impulses welled up within her. The final chapter - Were they Toby's Cubs? - describes the author catching sight of a fox cub: his sandy jacket showed against the greenery, as did his keen, alert little face, delicate muzzle and pricked ears; so like, so exactly like Toby at the same age! Was he indeed Toby's cub? The author certainly wanted to think so; and, we the reader, probably do too.