Admittedly a curious way to spend early morning coffee hour, here on the Writer’s Perch, that is, squinting through a rifle scope. Damned coyote.

It must have a den just across the lane from the house. Sizable fellow, he is. I’m told that over the years they’ve inter-bred with wolves, thus evolving a new improved, bigger coyote !

They have varied howls, yaps and barks depending on their frame of mind and the time of day. Surely that bleak and desolate midnight howl isn’t the only screech in their sheath.

He stood stock still for a fleeting moment, a shoulda , coulda moment . Then he ambled over the knoll and out of sight.

Me who hesitates is lost ! Tomorrow was teased.