Urban Foxes: How They Live in Our Cities

Foxes moved into British cities in the 1930s, into North American ones later, and into most of temperate Europe by the end of the twentieth century. They did not do it by changing much. The urban fox is the same animal as the one in the hedgerow, running the same programme — find dense food, hold the smallest territory that supplies it, avoid conflict — in a landscape that happens to be made of brick.

Smaller ground, more neighbours#

The single biggest difference is spatial. A rural fox on poor ground may need 10–40 km² to survive. An urban fox with reliable food can hold 0.2–0.5 km² and never leave it. Because territory size falls, density rises: suburban areas with gardens, sheds and mature hedges can support densities an order of magnitude above surrounding farmland.

That density does not mean the population is exploding. Fox numbers are limited by food and by disease — sarcoptic mange in particular has repeatedly crashed urban populations by 90% or more and then allowed slow recovery. Culling has been tested and does not work: removing animals empties territories that neighbouring foxes fill within weeks.

Where they actually sleep#

Rural foxes use earths — dug dens, often enlarged badger or rabbit workings. Urban foxes dig too, under sheds, decking and railway embankments, but they also spend a great deal of time lying up above ground: on garage roofs, in bramble patches, on flat roofs and in the middle of overgrown gardens. A fox curled on a shed roof in daylight is not sick or lost; it is doing the normal thing.

Breeding earths, however, are almost always underground and almost always in the quietest available spot — which in a suburb usually means beneath a shed, in a garden that nobody uses.

The city is changing their skulls#

Comparisons of urban and rural fox skulls from the same regions have found consistent differences: urban animals tend to have shorter, wider snouts, smaller braincases and reduced sexual dimorphism. The pattern resembles early-stage domestication syndrome, and the likely driver is diet — a shorter, stronger snout suits scavenging and biting into tough packaging, while a long fine snout suits precision hunting.

It is not evidence that foxes are becoming pets. It is evidence that a few decades of a different selection regime leaves a physical trace, which is interesting in itself.

Living with a fox in the garden#

When a fox genuinely needs help#

• Severe mange — extensive hair loss, thickened grey skin, visible distress. Treatable, and local wildlife charities will often advise or intervene.
• Obvious injury — a dragging limb, a fox that does not move away when approached.
• A cub alone and calling for hours in one spot. A cub simply sitting in the open in May is usually fine and being watched by a parent.
• A fox trapped in netting, a basement or under a gate.

For everything else, the advice is the same as it has been since foxes arrived in cities: leave the food inside, leave the fox alone, and enjoy having a wild carnivore on the street.

Two pages cover the practical side of living with them: how to get rid of foxes if they are causing a problem, and do foxes eat dog food if you have been feeding them and are wondering whether to stop. For the noise in January, see fox sounds explained.