play by play

A movement at the edge of the soccer field caught my eye. Four little creatures had dashed from the woods, merged as one briefly, and separated, rolling and tumbling and nipping at each other. Four puppies. Four coyote puppies. My grandson, the pirate, was Yo Ho Ho-ing and they froze, their little faces turning in unison to gaze across the field. 'My, what big ears you have. The better to hear you with,' came to mind, although that story has a scary ending. Where there are baby coyotes, there is probably an overtired and testy mother with protective instincts at the ready. This was pointed out by my daughter who also has protective instincts at the ready, and so I herded my small, bite sized grandchildren indoors. Play happily continued inside and out.