the prowler
Well-Known Member
think I were 17 or 18. Even in the middle of winter my mums hanging the washing out. Probably 1990. Fast forward to 2026
Your first fox 🦊
- Thread starter the prowler
- Start date
think I were 17 or 18. Even in the middle of winter my mums hanging the washing out. Probably 1990. Fast forward to 2026
Mine was at age 11 with a 22LR (things were different back then)!
BenBhoy
Well-Known Member
Mine was with mcnab lowlander 12 bore. Probably 18 years old. I was member of a bobbery pack ran by fella named Phil Lloyd in the Conwy valley. Line of guns & then dogs would work cover, basically like a beating line = driven fox! I was 20yd behind some gorse and first fox bolted, gave him both using #3 shot. Was buzzing.
First rifle fox was with hmr browning t-bolt, early morning on some fresh silage.
First rifle fox was with hmr browning t-bolt, early morning on some fresh silage.
desperate dan
Active Member
Think mine would have been when I was 17, ferreting an old pit in the corner of a cover crop just after the season had finished, bolted by a very grumpy old hob
My first fox was taken with a .223 courtesy of the 'keeper I spent much of my youth with. Having established that I could shoot small enough groups at 100yds he settled me down one evening to watch over a bait point about 80ygs away, told me to 'keep alive' (awake) and left me there alone. I had sat out for foxes many times with him 'on the gun' before but this was to be my first 'solo flight'.
After about 45 mins I thought he had been pulling my leg, but then he appeared, a nice big dog fox sauntering up to the bait without a care in the world. As soon as he stopped I settled the crosshairs on his chest and squeezed. Almost before he hit the deck a voice behind me made me jump as it boomed out in the now semi-darkness "That'll do boy !" The crafty old sod had been sitting not 10yds away watching everything. I was 10 at the time, and felt every bit 'The Great White Hunter' for at least a week
After about 45 mins I thought he had been pulling my leg, but then he appeared, a nice big dog fox sauntering up to the bait without a care in the world. As soon as he stopped I settled the crosshairs on his chest and squeezed. Almost before he hit the deck a voice behind me made me jump as it boomed out in the now semi-darkness "That'll do boy !" The crafty old sod had been sitting not 10yds away watching everything. I was 10 at the time, and felt every bit 'The Great White Hunter' for at least a week
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