Free How to Outfox Your Friends When You Don't Have a Clue by Jess Keating

can’t survive in populated areas, but foxes don’t seem to care. They’ll steal food from garbage cans just as soon as they will find their dinner in the wild.”
    A ripple of excitement rushed through me. I’d known foxes lived around us, especially outside the city and in the mountains. But I never realized how beautiful they were, practically stalking through our own backyards with their sharp eyes and fluffy tails.
    â€œDo they get hit by cars a lot?” I asked. My heart blipped with fear as the fox’s tail flicked ever so slightly.
    He frowned. “They’re usually very good about staying hidden, but with more and more people developing in their natural habitat, we’re noticing more incidents. Sometimes they find themselves on our properties, snooping through our garbage or getting cornered by dogs.” He frowned.
    â€œDon’t worry.” He nudged me, winking. “Your pets are safe.”
    I grinned. “I have a loudmouth parrot,” I told him. “I’m pretty sure Darwin would talk so much the fox would beg us to take him back.” I watched closely as Mom leaned down to inspect each of the fox’s black paws. She pressed gingerly on the center of each paw. His sharp claws extended slightly.
    â€œWhoa.” I breathed.
    Eli grinned with appreciation. “Pretty cool, huh?”
    I nodded, my heart racing. Everything was so quiet, but the excited buzz in my head nearly made me bounce on the spot. This was so cool.
    We watched as Mom moved on to check out the fox’s face and neck.
    â€œHis pupils are dilated,” she said, shining a flashlight at the fox’s face. “I think he’s got a concussion. Everything else but that leg looks okay. No signs yet of internal bleeding,” she said. “Miraculously,” she added. Her eyebrows lifted hopefully. “Let’s make sure he’s still not in any pain, clean out that cut, and stitch him up.”
    I took a few steps forward, trying to spot the leg she was talking about. A thin trail of blood was seeping slowly onto the steel table, pooling from what looked like a three-inch gash on the fox’s forearm. I cringed. It looked so painful. I rubbed my own arms nervously.
    â€œYou’re going to give him stitches?” I gaped at her. “Yourself?”
    Mom wrung her hands and began riffling through the drawers by the sink. “It needs to get done, and Alex, our tech, can help,” she said, gesturing to a woman with a dark bob of hair on her left. Alex gave me a small smile. For someone who routinely worked with big zoo animals, she looked remarkably teensy. What did she do when polar bears needed their shots?
    â€œDon’t worry, hun,” Alex assured me. “He’ll be asleep and won’t feel a thing. Your mom will be safe too,” she added, winking.
    I held my breath as I watched them prepare the fox for his stitches. His eyes were covered again with a towel, and a bottle of clear liquid was squirted over its leg. I bit my lip as deep streaks of red ran off with the fluid, onto the towel placed on the floor. It was scary, but more than anything I wished I could be working beside her, helping to save this poor animal’s life.
    Tufts of black fur fell to the floor as Mom used a little electric trimmer to shave the fox’s leg around the cut. My heart seemed to clench tighter and tighter. Seeing such a wild animal lying on a table completely knocked out seemed wrong. He should have been out, running through the forest, leaping over rocks, or chasing rabbits. What would it be like to be so free?
    I crossed my fingers and wished that he would get better.
    â€œYou may not want to watch this part,” Mom said, as she set a tray of stitching supplies down. “He’s not feeling any pain, but it’s not going to be pretty.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Mom,” I said. The truth was, despite being totally scary and horrible,