My neighbor's cat is not my favorite creature. More often than not its pitter pattering through my meadow, sheltering in my old weathered barn and answering its evolutionary call of the wild as a hunter with emphasis on killing. The cat will loiter under my raised porch to take out birds at the feeder and then return to its secluded base of operations - my porch - to wait for another strike and kill.  His  plundering  career is nearing the end if  his feline cranium does not get more wild woods wisdom.  No: I am not about to do him in. But if he knew what I now know he would stay home cozy and curled up for his routine has been detected--by a red fox.   I have an infra red camera that detects wildlife movement near my house and records the time of each event as it takes photos in burst of three.  In most every batch of pictures Mr. Tabby makes  multiple appearances. In the last batch, less than two minutes after tabby plodded casually through the infra red beam on a nightime foray, a sleek red fox snapped her picture:  And the fox had her nose to the ground and was clearly on her own hunting mission. Perhaps her look back at the camera was her way of telling me, "It's Ok, cat cuisine is on the menu."