"What the hell is that?" I croaked, woken from my recurrent dream of loading reams of information onto the computer, by a banshee wail that went on and on, somewhere in the very near vicinity.
"It's a fox" said Patsy123, twitching the nets, "but I can't see what it's attacking."
Next morning, apart from some suspicious fox poo on the front path, there was nothing to indicate that a fox had been anywhere near.
What made the noise? A rat? A cat? A bat?
Who knows. But I'm back now, away from hooligan London foxes.