I remember watching a tom cat we used to have (death on four feet, to anything crawling/walking/flying around our yard) digging for moles in the yard.
He'd dug into the mole tunnel and was on his belly, with one front leg jammed as far up the tunnel as he could get it. He'd work one arm in/out/around trying to get a claw into that mole. Then he'd pull that leg/paw out of the tunnel and stick the other one in there and repeat the clawing around motions. He never did get a hold on that mole and finally gave up and walked away.
Funny to watch, once I figured out what he was doing.
I used to see dead moles in the woods while hunting after a fresh snow. The foxes would sense them, dig them out from under the snow, kill them and then drop them. Dad said foxes wouldn't eat them, they just killed them for some reason. Maybe the sound like a mouse but don't smell/taste like a mouse.