The other night, here in south Dublin, there went up a frightening screech. You would not have been too surprised if a witch, pointy hat and all, were to be seen soaring over the trees on her broomstick. But the answer is more down to earth - it was the mating cry of a fox, a screech to make you wonder.
The fox is very much at the centre of British politics with Tony Blair set to outlaw hunting with dogs and having apparently a big majority behind him. What might happen when/if the case goes to the House of Lords, no one quite knows. Anyway the sporting press and some of the newspapers are in no doubt. They present it as a case of townies versus the real England of the countryside.
For example, Frederic Forsyth, the best-seller writer, has a page of comment in the monthly Field. A headline announces: "March 18: Be There, Fight For Liberty." Frederick Forsyth is in no doubt. The rural vote was irrelevant to Labour's plans for reelection.
How many people in the countryside actually approve of, much less take part in this activity? Forsyth declares that the wish to suppress it comes from political correctness and "slavish subservience to the numerically few but hugely funded animal rights movements."
And this animal, how then would it be controlled or extirpated, if it is so troublesome? Well, it could be hard enough. James Fairley, in his An Irish Beast Book, tells how in the North of Ireland a bounty used to be given to people who brought in a fox's brush (tail). After a while it seemed that the paying out might have to go on for ever: the number of foxes killed did not go down. Rather, it seems, that if you kill a fox, its place is soon taken by a newly born fox.
They have, apparently an endless capacity for keeping up their numbers. So what will be done in England? Poison? Shooting? It's an intriguing picture. What happens to the hounds? They are trained to kill, so they would have to be put down. Loss of employment for the people who breed and keep them.
Lots of interesting questions, including: how will the farmer protect his young lambs and his chicken runs? You could speculate all day. Meanwhile, here in suburban Dublin, a couple of nights ago a fox climbed into an enclosed garden with high walls, came up to the picture window, looked hard at the couple there, and quietly walked away.