‘Are your fox collars brown with a big black lump on one side?’ asked the woman on the phone.
‘Yup, sounds like them. Why?’
‘Umm, I’ve got one here. My friend found it on a dead fox on the road.’
Damn, damn. At that stage, I only had collars on two foxes and now I was back to one again.
I picked the collar up from her friend’s letterbox on my next field trip and sure enough it was Fern’s. Talk about a death-wish! The first fox I ever caught, she had been slightly too small to collar back in December, just an over-grown cub. Then I had re-caught her in late January and been so happy to find that she’d gained enough weight to fit with a GPS collar.