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I live near Goose Green. An injured fox came into our garden on Saturday morning to die. He must have been run over. I'm not the biggest fan of the scrawny creatures, but it was actually quite harrowing...seeing the fear in his eyes. Called the RSPCA and various fox protection leagues, but no-one could make it to SE London to help the little fellow on his way. Eventually took a couple of hours, and then my husband had to shovel him into a black bag...not the dignified burial one would hope for!
I had a similar incident with a very scrawny fox at work. By the time the RSPCA chap turned up the fox had already died. Chap said it was very common - there are too many foxes and not enough food and the pack reject the weak ones who just slope off to die. I had assumed it was an old fox, but in fact it was quite young though fully grown.

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    • Thank you to everyone who has already shared their thoughts on this. Dawson Heights Estate in the 1980s, while not as infamous as some other estates, did have its share of anti-social behaviour and petty crime. My brother often used the estate as a shortcut when coming home from his girlfriend’s house, despite my parents warning him many times to avoid it. Policing during that era had a distinctly “tough on crime” approach. Teenagers, particularly those from working-class areas or minority communities, were routinely stopped, questioned, and in some cases, physically handled for minor infractions like loitering, skateboarding, or underage drinking. Respect for authority wasn’t just expected—it was demanded. Talking back to a police officer could escalate a situation very quickly, often with harsh consequences. This was a very different time. There were no body cameras, dash cams, or social media to hold anyone accountable or to provide a record of encounters. Policing was far more physical and immediate, with few technological safeguards to check officer behaviour. My brother wasn’t known to the police. He held a full-time job at the Army and Navy store in Lewisham and had recently been accepted into the army. Yet, on that night, he ran—not because he was guilty of anything—but because he knew exactly what would happen if he were caught on an estate late at night with a group of other boys. He was scared, and rightfully so.
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    • Unless you're 5 years old or have been living in a cave for several decades you can't be for real. I don't believe that you're genuinely confused by this, no one who has access to newspapers, the tv news, the internet would ask this. Either you're an infant, or have recently woken up from a coma after decades, or you're a supercilious tw*t
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