Foxes For Bloomsday.

From James Joyce's Ulysses

"Nestor" 

The cock crew

The sky was blue:

The bells in heaven

Were striking eleven.

Tis time for this poor soul

To go to heaven.

-- What is that?

-- What, sir?

-- Again, sir. We didn't hear.

Their eyes grew bigger as the lines were repeated. After a silence Cochrane said:

-- What is it, sir? We give it up.

Stephen, his throat itching, answered:

--- The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush.

One Bloomsday, roses bloomed on a bush in my yard that hadn't had flowers for many years. Another Bloomsday, it was a mountain flower riot of rhododendrons. 

This year, it’s a skulk of foxes.

Not under a hollybush - under my front porch, right next to my door.

YES.