Wednesday, January 19, 2011

dinner gong

Golf courses are empty on January mornings. Or so I thought. A coyote caught my eye this morning. I had been admiring the rolling greens, and there he was. He looked very fit and plush and happy. His big ears were forward and he looked ready to pounce on some small morsel.
The untimely demise of my friend's cat came suddenly to mind. Her ancient, arthritic cat had been outdoors in the gathering twilight, prowling. My friend heard a meow at her glass door, but unfortunately, a passing coyote heard a dinner gong. He was up onto the deck and away into the darkness with the cat before you could say quick and nimble, or quickly nibbled for that matter. And that was that.

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