Recycled coyote


coyotemorningTook Dawg out for his morning walk yesterday and he didn’t even get off the stoop before he froze and stared at something that obviously needed his full attention.  I looked around, expecting to see a jogger, or maybe someone else walking a dog, but the only activity going on was a guy putting a bag into the recycle dumpster across the street.  Well, I say “across the street”, but actually, there’s an apartment complex across the street.  Their driveway is directly across from my door.  At the rear of their parking lot, almost a half mile away, are three recycle bins (paper, plastic, glass).  That’s where the guy was, and, as far as I could tell, he wasn’t making any noise.  Maybe he smelled, I don’t know, but I had to drag Dawg to get him to break his gaze.  And, of course, the whole time we’re moving away from the house, Dawg’s almost breaking his neck trying to keep the guy in his view.

Then, last night I took him out for his midnight walkies (for that one I sit in the doorway and let him just use the front yard while I hang onto the long leash).  He wandered all over the place, sniffing hither and yon, trying to find the right spot.  And the whole time he was smelling the grass, I watched a dog come trotting down the sidewalk across the street (by the apartment building), head up, walking proud.  By the time it got directly opposite my door, I realized it wasn’t somebody’s dog running free, it was one of the pack of coyotes that lives in the five acre drainage area at the end of our street.  Dawg, who hates seeing any other dog in his territory, was completely clueless.

Finally, halfway through his evening bowel movement, Dawg must have caught a whiff of the coyote, because his head went up and he started frantically swinging his nose around, left, then right.  Eventually he had to turn around to see the coyote, who, by now, was vanishing in the gloom.

I’m sorry.  I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I could not keep from laughing out loud.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything funnier than Dawg trying to stop mid-dump and look ferocious while hopping like a rabbit with all four feet together.

He’s still pouting.


About Daddy Bear

I'm old and grouchy -- don't push it! I've got a long, pointless, and boring story, & I'm not afraid to tell it...and tell it...and tell it...
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