There's a dead fox next to my car and some crows are pulling at its entrails,

[Burney]

spreading them around my wheels

If I call the council, will they tell me to fúck off?

Perhaps I should get Mesut to call them and play the "do you know who I am?" card

Blimey. Finchley sounds like it's gone a bit post-apocalyptic. Your first sentence sounded like a Ted Hughes poem.