Sunday afternoon, a red fox was sunning itself in a garden two houses down. He was so close, I could have touched him – and so tame, I really probably could have. You see, he’s a common sight in our neighbourhood: he prowls about the flowers by night and hides himself in sleep by day. But still, I found him unsettling. Not because he’s wild – or, as wild as a suburban London fox can be – but because he’s stealthy. This fox prefers midnight to midday, and the cover of streetlights to four o’clock rays.