So Saturday morning Queso and Hodge are making a huge ruckus in the backyard. I am sitting in the chair with Ryndon, so I try to look out the doors and see what the commotion is about. (You have to keep in mind, our dogs are like dumb and dumber--not the sharpest knives in the drawer.) I can't see anything but a blue heron in the pond.
But the dogs kept running back and forth along the fence line as if they were following something. So, I get to looking some more. I have to lean back and forth to look past one of the porch's posts.
Pretty soon I see what the problem is--there is a big dog about 3 feet on the other side of the back fence. I look at little harder. That's no dog. It's a dang coyote!!!
Well, Annie Oakley springs into action. I set Ryndon in the love sac and fly out on the porch in my pj's, hollering for all I'm worth. My dogs looked at me funny and went back to their ruckus. The coyote just looked at me. I didn't even phase him. He finally went away from the fence, but was still in the pasture and not scared.
Well--- ANNIE, GET YOUR GUN!!!
I run into the spare bedroom and grab Ty's 22 and the unopened box of bullets. It takes me a few minutes to get it loaded and ready to go. (After all, the last time I shot a gun was in college.)
I run to the porch (Ryndon's pretty entertained with all of this.) The coyote is still at the back end of the corral.
Now remember, it's been about 10 years since I've fired a gun. I don't want to hit horses, dogs or anything else important. So I aim near the coyote but not so that I'd hit anything special. I keep focused on that area, pull the trigger and BOOM!!! Dogs, horses, birds and probably coyote go running.
But next time Mr. Wiley E. Coyote, I will NOT be firing a warning shot.
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