Coyotes

My friend D announced the other night that someone needs to write a book for hunters, When You Can Kill Things in Arkansas, because the options are so overwhelming. Still, I think it was with a little disbelief that P and D put on their boots and plunged into the gully behind the house in search of the coyotes I swore were back there. I've only ever seen one adult, but late at night you can hear a whole mewling chorus of them. I think there might be a litter of pups somewhere. Sure enough the boys' trip flushed the adult, who came trotting up and crossed the low end of the yard before disappearing again into the woods.



I don't like the idea of going out for my morning run while a species of pack animals with a chase instinct live in the backyard.