IT IS early on a Tuesday morning and after rushing around getting myself and my four-year-old daughter ready to leave the house to go to work and nursery, I walk out of the front door and step straight into a pile of swede and carrot from Sunday's roast.

Great. I'm already cutting it fine and now I've got to clear up a week's worth of household rubbish even though I have a bin with a lid.

I can't afford one of those wheelie ones at £50 a pop and Bromley Council does not supply you with any kind of bin whatsoever, so the cheap one with a lid will have to do.

Having to clear up my rubbish is becoming such a regular occurrence my patience with the local family of foxes is wearing extremely thin.

Isn't the food we have been keeping them in for God knows how long not up to their standard? I was talking to a neighbour who had found a fox which had invited itself in through the cat flap and was cockily sitting there eating his cat's dinner.

Another neighbour is worried about buying a new car as these vermin seem to have ruined the paintwork on her current car by putting a stage production of the animals of Elmstead Woods on her bonnet.

I'm at the end of my tether. I'm all for saving the environment and its inhabitants, but I think when foxes start costing you money something has to be done.


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