The horn sounded and the bastards began, with horse and hound the smell of equine sweat without a time for regret. Their prey:  a modest male, red with a flash of white for a tail.

Disregard to bridleway and land rights the hunt sails through with him in their sights. Twenty hairy fools with a century of bite, dribbling and driving as the fox takes to flight.

Forget gardens, field, roads and lanes, this bunch of wankers progress with disdain. A clip of the whip drives the adrenaline hard, as the fox makes a break gaining past a yard.

One dog has fallen, it’s leg in tatters, those loyal terrier men will soon reduce it to smatters.

Over a hedge and down to a barrow, it’s one by one now the way is too narrow.

Cars halt as the hunt crosses road, there is no respect here and a lorry driver lets them know.

This Villainous bullshit will soon come to an end as the fox rounds a corner and darts under a bench. Two lovers of nature swipe him up and place him gently in the back of their truck. Sabs, scabs or what ever you like there is no denying they saved his life. Back to the drawing board for this lawless hunt.

A hunt is their name, for me they are all ….s.

© 2021 A Hattam