Ever see a coyote say, “Oh! Shit!”?

Because Little Bear and I just did, not ten minutes ago.

It’s bread-making afternoon, and a good time to do it, too, because it’s cool and blustery outside and a warm oven is a good oven. I finished the rising, heated up the oven, pushed the loaves in, set the timer and said, “Who wants a walky?”

We only had time for a short one – we’ll go check on Landlady’s remaining chickens a little later – so we went up the ridge to Ian’s place and then hung a left to go around the horseshoe in the wash, just a short oval.

Having made two turns, the wind was coming from the sage scrub to our left and would be in our faces on the last leg through the wash. Ghost had gone off to investigate something else, so it was just Little Bear and me at that point. LB was very interested in something in the scrub and wanted to go check it out, but he was being pretty good about staying with me…

When out of the scrub and straight toward us trotted a big ol’ coyote, who only a moment before hadn’t had a care in the world.

Wind carries scent, and carries it away. LB knew about the coyote, the coyote didn’t know about LB until they were six feet apart.

And LB forever settled a long-standing question as to what he would do if he ever found himself nose-to-nose with one. He lunged.
Yeah, Coyote managed to say that in seven or eight languages without making a sound. LB probably outweighed the coyote at least three times, and he wanted to play. Coyote didn’t know about the rope, and for just a moment LB forgot about it, too.

Thank heaven for all that leash training, or I’d have been towed through the sand like a dogsled. Coyote took off across the wash like he’d been shot out of a gun.

And speaking of guns, mine was on its way out of its holster.

Now, I didn’t have any particular reason to want to hurt the coyote. It’s not a crime to be one, hell I even feed them dead birds – far away from the cabin. But I’ve been seeing sign closer and closer to the cabin lately, and this seemed an awfully good time to drive a lesson home.

So I did something we’re trained not to do – I fired warning shots. Yup, I chased that ‘yote for about 200 yards, until it finally made the sandhills and disappeared over the top. Every time it tried to stray from where I wanted it to go, I laid a shot in front of it – and it knew what was going on, too. It acted kind of like it had been shot at before, and it wanted to be gone.

Good fun!

Of course now I’ve got to clean the damned revolver again…

ETA: Oh! Lookie here!

About Joel

You shouldn't ask these questions of a paranoid recluse, you know.
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5 Responses to Ever see a coyote say, “Oh! Shit!”?

  1. Farm.Dad says:

    Thats pretty much the way I handle neighbor dogs when they turn up loose to pester my chickens ( the first time ) . Yotes and repeat offender dogs just get taught to stay .

  2. Howard says:

    Is hat split case from barrel leading then fireing jacketed ammo behind it? B

  3. Mike says:

    Depending on what caused it, that can get twitchy. Did you ever get the timing issue figured out?

  4. billf says:

    I’m guessing that’s one of your reloads,that was reloaded one too many times?I often reload them till I see a split case ,just to make sure I get my money’s worth.

  5. Joel says:

    Yeah, that case might be five years old and reloaded who knows how many times. That was the last time, though…

    And no, the timing issue is still an issue. I might need a gunsmith for that, or to send the damned thing to Taurus. Doesn’t show up much in single action, thank goodness.

To the stake with the heretic!