Initially, I had the idea to get up around 7:30 AM and do a little walk around the property, since my dad had recently seen boar in the forest during broad daylight.
It being the weekend and having stayed up too late, I only woke up at 8:20 and figured that it'd still be worth it if I got out of the house quickly.
So I quickly gathered all my stuff, taking the Blaser 750/88 Bergstutzen chambered for 9,3x74R and .222 Rem. as armanent. I thought that 9,3x74R would do the job, if I had to shoot one on the run.
Also, in Germany we say "Fuchs kann immer kommen" which translates roughly to "There's always the possibility of a fox wandering about", so the .222 barrel was a nice addition.
Finally being finished with my preparations, I left the house together with my (not so) trusted Dachshund Polly.
Wandering through the snowy winter forest, I heard several cracks and noises in the undergrowth, but not a single boar showed itsself.
Having left the area in which the boars usually bed, I had almost given up on my hopes until, a little further down the road I suddenly registered movement to my left.
I took a closer look and, what do you know, there's a fox around 40 meters away. My companion, of course, didn't notice it.
Having missed my chance on a close shot at a fallow deer last November, I remembered to identify my target through the scope.
After having confirmed that the animal was indeed a fox, I lined up the 4-12x Schmidt and Bender's unilluminated reticle up behind the shoulder blade.
I assured myself, that my finger was indeed in front of the second trigger, wanting to avoid an unnessary slap to the face by the 9,3 and slowly put more weight into my pull.
The shot broke crisp and clear in the morning forest and I saw the fox flee out of my line of sight. My dog, finally having seen it, bolted right after it.
Arriving at the point where it stood when I fired at it, I thankfully spotted the downed fox about 20 meters away.
I quickly called up my dad to ask him for help (and a plastic sack) and told him my location.
Waiting for him to arrive, I had to use my hand and feet to keep the dog from taking a slurp of fox and, in turn, infecting itsself with a multitude of different diseases and parasites.
Upon my dad arriving, we put it in a sack, he congratulated me on the kill and the fox made it's way into the freezer. And we were home by lunchtime.
We, however, forgot to take a picture in all that hurry, so you'll have to take my word.