I recall a time a few years back when we had not lost a chicken to a predator in a few months. A neighbor mentioned that there was a fox den up the road with a mother and four pups, which motivated me to be more diligent with locking up the coops. Yet there were days when a rogue thought skittered through my brain. 

 

"I almost wish that fox would come by now. I dare her to get through those wires." Sometimes I would even curl a rock in my palm to hurl at the vixen should she lunge at my hens. Brazen, I admit, but I thought it. Several days in a row.

 

Then the fox outsmarted me. First she nabbed a chick who had probably squeezed through the netting at the wrong time. Then I came home to an empty coop, one that just that morning had held a sweet Silkie mama and her two chicks. Apparently bungee cords stretch for a muzzle as well as my hands. I went to check on the last of the new bantams and she was gone too. Just like that, five chickens eaten.  

 

The other day I had a conversation with a woman trying to construct strong boundaries around her marriage. She has male friends, and wants to be sure she does not undermine her husband's trust by sharing too freely with another man. We chatted about good safeguards, like not saying or writing words that you would be uncomfortable sharing in your husband's presence. Physical space matters too, even if you think you are invincible to temptation.

 

When people scrounge up the courage to talk to me about their susceptibility to adultery, I remind them that it is not included in the ten commandments simply as filler. God expects it to come prowling.

 

No need to be brazen.