Six in the morning, I drive into work.
Traffic lights turn red as I approach a pedestrian crossing in the centre of Caversham.
Grudgingly, I hit the brakes and prepare to let this early-bird cross the road.
It is a fox, strutting across the road like it owns the place. Strutting across the road and up the stairs to the library.
A library which is closed, maninly because it is a) six in the morning and b) a bank holiday. In your face, Reynard!
I am impressed. Not because you don't usually see foxes that close up unless it is going for your throat. No, urban foxes are becoming an ever more common phenomenon these days. I am impressed for one reason only:
How, in the name of buggery, did it manage to press the button?
Edit: I wrote a poem about it ---
In your face John so-called Betjeman.
I saw a fox
and it crossed the road
Bugger me sideways
it used the Green Cross Code.
And now it's gone
To teach its cub
The Tufty Club.