THE recent story of the two small children attacked by a fox was horrific and, for those who know foxes, almost unbelievable. They are predators of course, but they are no more likely to think baby humans suitable prey than our equally predatory cats.

Foxes owe their enormous success to two things, their intelligence and their opportunism.

A study I read by an amateur naturalist (with a particularly tolerant wife) who analysed fox droppings over a long period showed clearly how their diet adapted itself to what was available.

In spring there was a large helping of young small mammals, when times were hard it was more a case of worms and beetles, and in the autumn the diet consisted almost entirely of windfalls from local orchards.

Foxes don't put themselves out to pursue healthy rabbits in an exhausting race.

They prefer seclusion and guile, and usually only succeed with the young or the weak. Their liking for slaughtering large numbers of farmyard poultry which gave them such a fearsome reputation was exaggerated by the circumstances.

It is natural for them to kill as many suitable prey as they can, some for now and some for later, and they are quite unable to tell in a confined space when enough is enough.

They are creatures of legend and folklore, treated with grudging respect even by farmers who hate and hunt them, a worthy adversary in a constant battle of wits.

Babies are far more vulnerable to household dogs.

Some breeds, and some ordinary dogs in a 'pack' of more than one, can forget their long acclimatisation to human society and see a small child as just the sort of prey they'd choose in the wild.

Babies can upset dogs who feel supplanted by a new favourite in the house – "Lady and the Tramp" was more than just fantasy.

The saddest story I heard was of a heartbroken German shepherd which was discovered digging a deep hole, beside which was the baby it had carried gently in its mouth from the cot. It could not overcome its inhibitions against hurting a human and just wanted its rival in love to disappear.

My mother was often brought orphan fox cubs to raise by the local hunt, and I grew up in a house where foxes were not unusual companions.

I've been lucky enough to raise some myself.

They were certainly never a threat.

Like dogs they have a huge appetite for play and know the difference between play-biting and the real thing.

They can be trained, especially by appealing to their sweet tooth.

They have a great sense of fun.

It is cruel to keep them as adults since it is part of their nature to roam freely and cover large amounts of ground, but I have never known even adults to attack a human except in self-defence.

I think and hope only a rogue animal would savage a child in such a way.