Foxes on the towpath

The Grand Union Canal is usually the picture of tranquility as it meanders past sleepy English villages. A gentle breeze, the buzz of a dragonfly, the distant chug of a narrowboat... and, as of yesterday, a highly organised gang of foxes trotting along the towpath like they owned the place.

The trio, moving with what witnesses described as 'suspicious purpose', didn't stop to sniff a single nettle. They seemed to be on a mission, their eyes fixed firmly ahead, their bushy tails held aloft. One can only assume they'd just pulled off a daring raid on a nearby chicken coop and were heading back to their canalside lair to divvy up the loot.

"Oh, we see them all the time," said one boater, enjoying a cuppa on her narrowboat. "But you never see three of them marching in formation like that. It was like a little furry army. The lead one gave me a look as if to say, 'Nothing to see here, love, just keep sipping your tea.' Very cheeky."

The incident has sparked a debate among locals. Was it simply a family out for a constitutional? Or does it point to a more sophisticated level of fox organisation than previously thought? Are they coordinating their bin-raiding activities via a network of secret tunnels under the towpath?

For now, their motives remain a mystery. But local residents are being advised to keep a close eye on their picnic baskets and any unattended barbecue sausages. It seems there's a new gang in town, and they're cunning, cute, and probably halfway through your prize-winning petunias.