Why does this keep happening? A neighbor dropped by yesterday afternoon to tell me about something I needed to know concerning the neighborhood. After a few minutes, I asked her how her little dog was doing? (I always worry about Misty because Ann and her husband often let her stay outside at night.) “She’s doing well,” Ann confirmed, and I drew a sigh of relief.
“That good,” I said, “because the other night I heard the coyotes again. They seemed to be over behind your house.” Before I could finish my sentence, she brightened up, “Oh, I know. We hear them all the time. They’re in the woods, alright.” Then she giggled, and her blue eyes twinkled with delight. And as she turned to go, she said “You take care, now.”
I closed the door, I wondered: “Why can’t I laugh about this stuff. Why can’t I just giggle and go on? What’s wrong with me? Who cares if a pack of coyotes is roaming around, and why should I care that years ago city workers put them here to keep the wolves away?”
Well, let’s change the subject: The above photo was taken while I was in western PA a couple of weeks ago. The river runs below a wonderful, old iron foot bridge that at one time was a horse and buggy bridge. I wonder if there are coyotes in that area?