Horseboxes. Ahh, it’s that time of year again. If you were a foreign visitor to these shores you could easily be forgiven for thinking that foxes were giant slavering beasts with huge talons and dripping fangs, capable of smashing their way into a home and devouring the occupants.

Why else would they inspire military scale operations with armies of four-legged foot soldiers backed by red-coated cavalry to keep them in check?

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t really have an informed opinion as to the conservation, control or sport of slaying small furry creatures.

By the same token, you won’t catch me prancing around Bicester Market Square on Boxing Day wearing a fox outfit and shouting pro-hunt saboteur slogans.

But I digress. I am not especially concerned with the antics of a bunch of sherry-fuelled upper-class twits, although I am in fact a secret admirer of tradition and pageantry.

I’m not really bothered that at this time of year we have to contend with large numbers of God’s untaxed four-legged vehicles clogging our roads either.

Their riders sit arrogantly astride their steeds while sycophantic surfs scurry about delivering liquor, while motorists are met with cheery waves or comments such as “Horses were here before cars”.

This can be annoying but doesn’t always last that long before they charge across the fields amid yelps, howls and squeals.

The real problem is the huge cumbersome vehicles that they transport the task force in and the bumbling dimwits that pilot them.

On more than one occasion I have spent frustrating journeys crawling behind these things.

They never seem to know where they are going and think nothing of stopping dead in the road to check maps or start conversations with passing vehicles.

When the time comes to unload their cargo, they will happily slew the vehicle across the road with scant regard for waiting motorists.

Now here’s an idea, with the obvious need for an operation of epic scale required to chase and capture furry fiends: why not organise an airlift with Chinook helicopters to drop the horses and hounds into the ‘HZ’ (Hunting Zone).

The elite of society could mimic the elite of the military and parachute behind enemy lines, which would take the murderous little scamps by surprise and the rest of us could use the roads in peace!