Smiley Vixen lives in a den right beside the sett of the Injured Badger. With snow on the ground, she carefully treads as she goes in or comes out of the den. The entrance is on a slope, but as a quadruped animal, she navigates the terrain with ease.

Sometimes, when she’s out of her den hunting, other foxes come snooping around, but they’ve already learned not to mess with her den, as in their previous run-ins with the Smiley Vixen, she had voraciously defended her den and sent even the bulkier male foxes running.

They still show up from time to time when she’s not there, but they no longer dare trying to invade. They angrily leave and let out a frightful bark that pierces the night like a terrifying thunder. But at times they still mark the area with their scent. They’ve learned their lessons and know better than to anger Smiley Vixen, but their instincts to mark a territory still rule over them.

Having established herself as the queen of the den, Smiley Vixen likes to hang out on the porch. When the sun came out with the snow still on the ground, she laid herself for a brief moment right in the entrance to her den, her rear end with the tail inside, but the front body out, savoring the rays of the winter sun.

Then as the snow disappeared over the course of a few warmer days, she really took her time resting there in the entrance. That day wasn’t that sunny, and there was a distressing call being let out by another animal nearby, but she didn’t bat a brow. She just lounged there serenely on her porch and stayed chilling for a long time. Not a thing in the world would burden her mind. She just chilled there and chilled some more.

I call her the Smiley Vixen because despite being a fearsome predator (Red Fox – Vulpes Vulpes), her potent bite hides behind her alluring smile, making her an incredibly cute animal when she hangs out by her den.

The video is a compilation of vids captured on a trail camera.

Tales from the Porch of Smiley Vixen

Even in the crisp embrace of winter, I savor every day in my den nestled cozily on the slope beside the Injured Badger’s sett. The snow-clad ground crunches beneath my nimble paws as I gracefully tread the terrain, navigating with the ease that only a well-battled forest creature could muster. My den, a sanctuary of warmth and safety, beckons me with the promise of comfort.

They called me the Smiley Vixen, and indeed, a permanent grin adorns my face, an incongruous sight on a creature known for its potent bite and fearsome reputation. Despite my cuteness, I bear the concealed power of a predator, and the alluring smile masks the true nature of my capabilities.

Other foxes, bold and curious, still occasionally venture near my den when I’m away on a hunt. They learned, though, not to trifle with the Smiley Vixen. The memory of their encounters with my voracious defense lingers, as even the bulkier males retreated with tails between their legs. They still show up from time to time when I’m absent, but they dare not provoke my wrath.

Their visits, however, are not without their marks. Angry barks would pierce the night, a thunderous reminder of their respect for my territory. Yet, instincts prevails, and they would leave their scent as a token gesture of claiming space, even in the face of their learned fear.

Established as the queen of the den, I revel in the comfort of my domain. On sunny days, I’d bask in the winter sun, lounging near the entrance. When the snow recedes, revealing the earth beneath, I take my time resting on the porch, my fur absorbing the fading warmth of the winter rays.

But today, the sun plays hide-and-seek behind the clouds, and a distant distress call echos through the air. The world outside my den buzzes with activity, yet I remain undisturbed. I stretch myself out at the entrance, my rear comfortably inside while the front part of my body extends beyond, my grin unfaltering.

As the snow gradually melts away over warmer days, I find solace in lingering on the porch, unmoved by the sounds of the surrounding wilderness. The distressing calls of other creatures reach my ears, but I pay them no heed. In that moment, I am the epitome of tranquility, an embodiment of serenity.

Thoughts flit through my cunning mind, at once contemplating the day’s catch and then the upcoming winter nights. Yet, nothing burdens me. The world could be chaotic beyond the threshold of my den, but on my porch, time stands still. I chill there, and I chill some more, the undisputed queen of my realm, wearing my smile like a crown in the fading winter light.

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