It’s one thing to know there’s a coyote in the neighborhood. It’s another to find one sunning itself in my front yard at midday.
This fellow, mangy and damaged from obvious run-ins with who-knows-what, didn’t show much fear when I went out to snap this photo. (Okay, I’m a chicken. I took the photo from the safety of my car). He sauntered off down the street before I could get Animal Control out to nab him.
I can only assume he’s responsible for leaving the raccoon or possum carcass that my neighbor, The Ticket’s Corby Davidson, tweeted a photo of yesterday. And I fear he’s also the culprit I heard howling two mornings ago, just before I heard the blood-curdling squeal of a small animal. Or should I call it breakfast?
Perhaps I’m too flippant. I’m not an animal owner. For those who are, until Wile E. is caught: I think I’d keep Kitty inside.
