"When I was very young, probably about 4 or 5, I was walking home from my Aunt's house. I had to cut across the hayfield to get home. She had just made bread and was sending a loaf home with me. It was still warm from the oven and it smelled like heaven. I was just at the edge of the field when I heard my Aunt yelling for me to turn around. I turned, and hot on my heels about twenty yards away, there was a red fox. It was Spring, and he was lanky and thin from Winter, so I am sure that bread smelled like heaven to him too. She was yelling for me to throw the bread and run, but having been around canines all of my life, I knew that running meant he would most likely give chase. And my parents would have been angry with me for throwing the bread, so I just stood there until he got about ten feet away and then I started screaming like a dying calf in a hail storm. The fox stopped and gave me the most curious look, then turned and trotted on down the dry creek bed that ran the edge of the hayfield. To this day, I thank my lucky stars for that. It was only a couple months later that there was a big outbreak of rabies in the foxes and skunks around our area."
--Dee Puett, Photographer